7 


y^x//.f^. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH 

A   MEMOIR 


Oliver  Goldsmith. 


Oliver  Goldsmith 

A   MEMOIR 
BY 

AUSTIN    DOBSON 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD    AND    COMPANY 

Publishers 


Copyright,  1899, 
By  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company. 

All  rights  reserved. 


Kntbersitg  ^rcs8: 
JuHN  WiLsox  AND  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


p/? 

3^93 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I 

Page 
The  Goldsmith  family;  Rev.  Charles  Goldsmith,  of  Pallas; 
Oliver  Goldsmith  born  there,  November  lo,  1728;  re- 
moval to  Lissoy,  1730;  Oliver's  first  teachers,  Elizabeth 
Delap  and  Thomas  Byrne ;  childish  characteristics ;  has 
the  small-pox ;  anecdotes  connected  therewith;  further 
schooling  at  Elphin,  Athlone,  and  Edgeworthstown ; 
adventure  at  Ardagh;  sizar  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin, 
June  II,  1744;  his  tutor  Theaker  Wilder;  dislike  to 
mathematics  and  logic  ;  involved  in  a  college  riot.  May, 
1747;  gets  a  small  exhibition;  disastrous  results ;  runs 
away  from  college ;  returns ;  writes  songs  for  ballad- 
singers ;  anecdote  of  his  benevolence;  takes  his  B.A. 
degree,  February  27,  1749;  relics  of  college  life   ...         i 


CHAPTER    H 

Waiting  for  orders;  rejected  by  the  Bishop  of  Elphin, 
1751;  tutor  to  Mr.  Flinn;  sets  out  for  America,  and 
returns ;  letter  to  his  mother ;  starts  again  fruitlessly  as 
a  law  student ;  goes  to  Edinburgh  to  study  medicine ; 
becomes  a  member  of  the  Medical  Society  there,  Jan- 
uary 13,  1753;  life  in  Scotland;  starts  for  Paris;  ad- 
ventures by  the  way ;  arrives  at  Leyden  ;  life  there ; 
leaves  Leyden,  February,  1755;  travels  on  foot  through 


vi  Contents 

Page 

Flanders  and  France  ;  travelling  tutor  (?)  ;  anecdote 
of  Voltaire ;  further  travels ;  arrives  in  England,  Feb- 
ruary I,  1756 20 


CHAPTER   III 

Prospect  and  retrospect ;  first  struggles  on  reaching  Eng- 
land ;  comedian,  apothecary's  journeyman,  poor  physi- 
cian, press-corrector  to  Richardson ;  writes  a  tragedy ; 
projects  of  Eastern  exploration;  assistant  at  Peckham 
Academy;  miseries  of  an  usher;  Peckham  memories; 
bound  to  Griffiths  the  bookseller,  April,  175;  ;  literature 
of  all  work;  criticism  of  Gray;  quarrels  with  Griffiths; 
"  Memoirs  of  a  Protestant"  published,  Februarj',  1758  ; 
returns  to  Peckham  ;  new  hopes  ;  meditating  "  Enquiry 
into  Polite  Learning;  "  letters  to  Mills,  Bryanton,  Mrs. 
Lawder  (Jane  Contarine) ;  obtains  and  loses  appoint- 
ment as  medical  officer  at  Coromandel ;  rejected  at  Sur- 
geons'Hall  as  a  hospital  mate,  December  21, 1758    .     .      4t 

CHAPTER    IV 

Pen-portrait  of  Goldsmith  in  1759;  No.  12,  Green  Arbour 
Court,  Old  Bailey;  difficulties  with  Griffiths;  writing 
"Memoirs  of  Voltaire;"  letter  to  Henry  Goldsmith, 
February,  1759;  visit  from  Dr.  Percy,  March;  "En- 
quiry into  Polite  Learning  "  published,  April  2;  account 
of  that  book ;  its  reception  ;  contributions  to  The  Busy 
Body,  and  The  Lady  s  Magazitie ;  The  Bee,  October 
to  November;  its  reference  to  Johnson;  minor  verse     .       64 

CHAPTER   V 

Amenities  of  authorship;  Newbery  and  Smollett ;  work  for 
The  British  Magazine;  "  History  of  Miss  Stanton;" 


Contents  vii 

Page 
other  contributions ;  The  Public  Ledger  ;  Chinese  letters 
begun,  January  24,  1760;  The  Lady'' s  Magazine  ;  moves 
into  6,  Wine  Office  Court,  Fleet  Street;  entertains 
Johnson  there,  May  31,  1761 ;  "  Memoirs  of  Voltaire  " 
published;  "History  of  Mecklenburgh "  published, 
February  26,  1762  ;  Cock  Lane  Ghost  pamphlet;  "  Citi- 
zen of  the  World"  published,  May  i ;  account  of  that 
book;  "  The  Man  in  Black  "  and  "  Beau  Tibbs;  "  an- 
ecdotes ;  Plutarch's  lives  begun,  May  i ;  out  of  town ; 
"Life  of  Nash"  published,  October  14;  sale  of  third 
share  in  "Vicar  of  Wakefield"  to  Benjamin  Collins, 
printer,  of  Salisbury,  October  28 84 


CHAPTER   VI 

Goldsmith  at  Salisbury  (?);  removes  to  Mrs.  Fleming's  at 
Islington;  Mrs.  Fleming's  bills;  hack-work  for  New- 
bery;  "  History  of  England  in  a  Series  of  Letters  from 
a  Nobleman  to  his  Son"  published,  June  26,  1764; 
Hogarth  at  Islington ;  his  portraits  of  Mrs.  Fleming  (?) 
and  Goldsmith;  "The  Club,"  1764;  its  origin  and  first 
members;  Goldsmith  "as  he  struck  his  contempo- 
raries "  ;  writing  "  The  Traveller  "  at  Islington  ;  publi- 
cation of  that  poem,  December  19;  its  dedication  to  his 
brother  Henry;  Johnson's  influence  and  opinion;  char- 
acteristics and  bibliography;  sum  paid  to  author      .     .     103 


CHAPTER   VH 

"Essays:  by  Mr.  Goldsmith"  published,  June  4,  1765; 
the  poetical  essays;  makes  acquaintance  with  Nugent; 
visits  Northumberland  House  ;  "  Edwin  and  Angelina" 
privately  printed ;  resumes  practice  as  a  physician  ;  epi- 


viii  Contents 

Page 
sode  of  Mrs.  Sidebotham ;  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  " 
published,  March  27,  1766;  Boswell's  "authentic"  ac- 
count of  the  sale  of  the  manuscript ;  variants  of  Mrs. 
Piozzi,  Hawlcins,  Cumberland,  and  Cook  ;  attempt  to 
harmonise  the  Johnson  story  and  the  Collins  purchase; 
date  of  composition  of  book ;  its  characteristics ;  theories 
of  Mr.  Ford;  bibliography  and  sale 124 


CHAPTER   VIII 

"  The  Vicar  "  and  "The  Traveller  "  as  investments ;  trans- 
lation of  Formey's  "  History  of  Philosophy  and  Philoso- 
phers "  published,  June,  1766;  "Poems  for  Young 
Ladies"  published,  December  15;  English  Grammar 
written;  "  Beauties  of  English  Poesy"  published,  April, 
1767;  letter  to  the  St.  James'' s  Chronicle,  July;  living 
at  Canonbury  House;  at  the  Temple;  visited  by  Parson 
Scott;  "  Roman  History";  the  Wednesday  Club;  pop- 
ularity of  genteel  comedy  ;  plans  a  play ;  story  of  "  The 
Good  Natur'd  Man  ; "  its  production  at  Covent  Garden, 
January  29,  1768;  its  reception;  Goldsmith  on  the  first 
night ;  his  gains ;  Davies  on  the  dramatis  personx ; 
Johnson  on  Goldsmith 


CHAPTER    IX 

Moves  to  2,  Brick  Court,  Middle  Temple  ;  relaxations  and 
festivities;  the  Seguin  recollections;  death  of  Henry 
Goldsmith;  begins  "  The  Deserted  Village;"  methods 
of  poetical  composition ;  "  Shoemaker's  Holidays ;  " 
Goldsmith's  companions;  "The  Shoemaker's  Para- 
dise" at  Edgeware;  Mr.  Bott,  the  barrister;  old  com- 
pilations and  new  ;  epilogue  to  Mrs.  Lenox's  "  Sister  "  ; 
a  dinner  at  Boswell's;  appointed  Professor  of  History 


Contents  ix 

Page 

to  the  Royal  Academy,  December;  letter  to  Maurice 
Goldsmith,  January;  portrait  painted  by  Reynolds; 
"The  Deserted  Village"  pubHshed,  May  26,  1770; 
depopulation  theory ;  identity  of  Auburn  and  Lissoy ; 
enduring  qualities  of  the  poem;  farewell  to  poetry; 
amount  received  by  author 


i( 


CHAPTER   X 

The  Horneck  family ;  "  Life  of  Thomas  Parnell "  pub- 
lished, July  13,  1770;  visit  to  Paris,  and  letters  to  Rey- 
nolds; "Abridgment  of  Roman  History,"  September; 
"Life  of  Bolingbroke"  published,  December;  Lord 
Clare  and  "The  Haunch  of  Venison";  at  the  Royal 
Academy  dinner;  at  Edgeware;  "  History  of  England  " 
published,  August  6,  1771 ;  letter  to  Langton,  September 
17;  prologue  to  Cradock's  "Zobeide,"  December  11; 
"  Threnodia  Augustalis"  published,  February  20,  1772; 
letter  in  prose  and  verse  to  Mrs.  Bunbury;  story  of 
"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer";  production  of  that  play  at 
Covent  Garden,  March  15,  1773  ;  its  success   ....     191 


CHAPTER   XI 

libellous  attack  and  its  sequel;  dining  out  at  Ogle- 
thorpe's and  Paoli's;  "The  Grumbler";  more  task 
work;  "Grecian  History";  "Dictionary  of  Arts  and 
Sciences";  "Retaliation";  epitaphs  on  Garrick  and 
Reynolds  ;  epitaph  on  Caleb  Whitefoord  ;  last  illness; 
dies,  April  4,  1774;  buried  on  the  9th  in  the  burying- 
ground  of  the  Temple  Church ;  Johnson's  epitaph ;  memo- 
rials and  statue 217 


X  Contents 

CHAPTER  XII 

Page 
Portraits  of  Goldsmith  ;  testimonies  as  to  character;  money 
diilicuities,  and  "  folly  of  expense  ;  "  alleged  love 
of  play;  of  fine  clothes  and  entertaimnents ;  generosity 
and  benevolence;  alleged  envy  and  malice;  position 
in  society ;  conversation ;  relations  with  Johnson ; 
conclusion 234 

APPENDIX 

Letters  to  Daniel  Hodson  and  Thomas  Bond 256 

INDEX 263 


OLIVER    GOLDSMITH 

A  Memoir 


CHAPTER   I 

The  Goldsmith  family;  Rev.  Charles  Goldsmith,  of  Pallas; 
Oliver  Goldsmith  bom  there,  November  lo,  1728;  removal  to 
Lissoy,  1730;  Oliver's  first  teachers,  Elizabeth  Delap  and 
Thomas  Byrne ;  childish  characteristics ;  has  the  small-pox ; 
anecdotes  connected  therewith ;  further  schooling  at  Elphin, 
Athlone,  and  Edgeworthstown ;  adventure  at  Ardagh ;  sizar 
at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  June  11,  1744;  his  tutor  Theaker 
Wilder ;  dislike  to  mathematics  and  logic ;  involved  in  a 
college  riot,  May,  1747;  gets  a  small  exhibition;  disastrous 
results  ;  runs  away  from  college  ;  returns  ;  writes  songs  for 
ballad-singers;  anecdote  of  his  benevolence;  takes  his  B.A. 
degree,  February  27,  1749;  relics  of  college  life. 

TF  the  researches  of  the  first  biographers  of 
^  Oliver  Goldsmith  are  to  be  relied  upon,  the 
Goldsmith  family  was  of  English  origin,  the  Irish 
branch  having  migrated  from  this  country  to 
Ireland  somewhere  about  the  sixteenth  century. 
One  of  the  earliest  members  traced  by  Prior  was 
a  certain  John  Goldsmyth,  who,  in  1 541 ,  held  the 
office  of  searcher  in  the  port  of  Galway,  and  was 
shortly  afterwards  promoted  by  Henry  VHI.  to 
be  Clerk  of  the  Council.     A  descendant  of  this 


2  Oliver  Goldsmith 

John,  according  to  tradition,  married  one  Juan 
Romeiro,  a  Spanish  gentleman,  who,  having 
travelled  in  Ireland,  finally  took  up  his  abode 
there.  His  children,  retaining  the  name  and 
the  Protestant  faith  of  their  mother,  settled  in 
Roscommon,  Longford,  and  Westmeath,  where 
of  old  many  traces  of  them  existed  which  have 
now  disappeared.  Some  became  clergymen, 
and,  during  the  rebellion  of  1641,  did  not  escape 
the  animosity  attaching  to  their  cloth.  Nor  was 
this  their  solitary  distinction.  The  maiden  name 
of  James  Wolfe's  mother  was  Goldsmith,  and 
the  Goldsmiths  consequently  claimed  kinship 
with  the  conqueror  of  Quebec.  Another  and 
more  shadowy  connection  was  supposed  to 
exist  with  Oliver  Cromwell,  from  whom  the 
poet  was  wont  to  declare  that  his  own  Christian 
name  was  derived.  But  as  his  maternal  grand- 
father was  called  Oliver  Jones,  it  is  probable  that 
no  great  importance  need  be  attached  to  this 
assertion.  It  is  more  to  the  point  to  note  that 
the  whole  of  the  Irish  Goldsmiths  seem  to  have 
been  distinguished  by  common  characteristics. 
Even  as,  in  the  later  "Vicar  of  Wakefield," 
the  "  Blenkinsops  could  never  look  straight 
before  them,  nor  the  Mugginses  blow  out  a 
candle,"  so  the  actual  ancestors  of  the  author 
of  that  immortal  book   have  a  marked  mental 


A  Memoir  3 

likeness.  They  may,  indeed,  be  described  in 
almost  the  exact  words  applied  to  the  Primrose 
family.  They  were  "  all  equally  generous, 
credulous,   simple  —  "  and  improvident. 

But  the  further  history  of  the  first  Goldsmiths 
may  be  neglected  in  favour  of  that  particular 
member  of  the  race  in  whom,  for  the  moment, 
this  biography  is  chiefly  interested  —  the  Rev. 
Charles  Goldsmith  of  Pallas,  Oliver  Goldsmith's 
father.  Charles  Goldsmith  was  the  second  son 
of  Robert  Goldsmith  of  Ballyoughter,  by  his  wife 
Catherine,  daughter  of  Thomas  Crofton,  D.  D., 
sometime  dean  of  Elphin.  In  1707,  he  went  to 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  as  a  pensioner,  passing 
through  it  with  credit.  Among  his  university 
associates,  it  was  said  by  his  son,  was  Parnell 
the  poet,  and  he  is  also  believed  to  have  been 
acquainted  with  Swift's  friend  —  "the  punster, 
quibbler,  fiddler  and  wit,"  Thomas  Sheridan, 
grandfather  of  the  author  of  the  "  School  for 
Scandal."  In  May,  1718,  Charles  Goldsmith 
married  Ann,  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Oliver  Jones, 
master  of  the  diocesan  school  at  Elphin,  where 
he  himself  had  been  educated.  Having  taken 
this  step  without  means,  and  his  father-in-law 
being  also  a  poor  man,  his  prospects  were  of  the 
vaguest.  But  his  wife's  uncle,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Green  of  Kilkenny  West,  offered   the  young 


4  Oliver  Goldsmith 

couple  an  asylum  at  Pallas  or  Pallasmore  in 
Longford,  not  very  far  from  the  town  of  Bally- 
mahon.  It  was  a  tumble-down,  fairy-haunted 
farmhouse  overlooking  the  pleasant  river  Inny, 
which  runs  through  Ballymahon  to  Lough  Ree ; 
and  here,  while  he  divided  his  time  between 
farming  a  few  fields  and  assisting  Mr.  Green 
in  his  clerical  duties,  five  children  were  born 
to  Charles  Goldsmith  —  three  girls,  Margaret, 
Catherine,  and  Jane  ;  and  two  boys,  Henry  and 
Oliver.  The  last  named,  who  saw  the  light  on 
November  lo,  1728,  is  the  subject  of  these  pages. 
When  Oliver  Goldsmith  was  born,  his  father's 
annual  income  as  a  curate  and  farmer,  even  when 
swelled  by  the  contributions  of  friends,  amounted 
to  no  more  than  forty  pounds.  But  two  years 
later  Mr.  Green  died,  and  Charles  Goldsmith 
succeeded  to  the  vacant  Rectory  of  Kilkenny 
West,  transferring  his  residence  to  Lissoy,  a  little 
village  on  the  right  of  the  road  from  Ballymahon 
to  Athlone.  His  house,  which  was  connected 
with  the  highway  by  a  long  avenue  of  ash-trees, 
had  an  orchard  and  a  pleasant  garden  at  the  back. 
The  new  living  was  worth  nearly  two  hundred  a 
year;  and  here  Charles  Goldsmith  continued  to 
maintain  that  kindly  hospitable  household,  which 
his  son  sketched  later  in  the  narrative  of  the 
"  Man  in  Black."     "  His  education  was  above 


A  Memoir  5 

his  fortune,  and  his  generosity  greater  than  his 
education.  Poor  as  he  was,  he  had  his  flatterers 
still  poorer  than  himself;  for  every  dinner  he 
gave  them,  they  returned  him  an  equivalent  in 
praise.  .  .  .  He  told  the  story  of  the  ivy-tree, 
and  that  was  laughed  at ;  he  repeated  the  jest  of 
the  two  scholars  and  one  pair  of  breeches,  and 
the  company  laughed  at  that ;  but  the  story  of 
Taffy  in  the  sedan  chair  was  sure  to  set  the  table 
in  a  roar."  ^  Neither  his  practice  nor  his  precepts 
were  those  which  make  rich  men.  Learning,  he 
held,  was  better  than  silver  or  gold,  and  benevo- 
lence than  either.  In  this  way  he  brought  up 
his  children  to  be  "  mere  machines  of  pity,"  and 
"  perfectly  instructed  them  in  the  art  of  giving 
away  thousands  before  they  were  taught  the  more 
necessary  qualifications  of  getting  a  farthing." 

In  the  meantime  little  Oliver  was  transferred 
to  the  care  of  Elizabeth  Delap,  a  relative  and 
dependant,  who  taught  him  his  letters.  Years 
afterwards,  when  she  was  an  old  woman  of 
ninety,  she  described  this  as  no  easy  task.  Her 
pupil,  she  affirmed,  was  exceedingly  dull  and 
stupid,  although  she  admitted  that  he  was  easily 
managed.  From  this  unflattering  instructress 
he  passed  to  the  far  more  congenial  tuition  of  the 
village  schoolmaster,  Thomas  Byrne.    Byrne  was 

1  Citizen  of  the  World,  1762,  i,  104. 


6  Oliver  Goldsmith 

a  character  in  his  way,  some  of  whose  traits  re- 
appear in  the  pedagogue  of  "  The  Deserted  Vil- 
lage." He  had  been  a  soldier  in  Queen  Anne's 
wars  in  Spain,  and  had  led  a  wandering,  adven- 
turous life,  of  which  he  was  always  willing  to  talk. 
He  was  besides  something  of  a  bookman,  dab- 
bled in  rhyme,  and  was  even  capable  of  extem- 
porising a  respectable  Irish  version  of  Virgil's 
eclogues.  Furthermore,  in  addition  to  being 
an  adept  in  all  the  fairy  lore  of  Ireland,  he  was 
deeply  read  in  the  records  of  its  pirates,  robbers, 
and  smugglers.  One  can  imagine  little  Oliver 
hanging  upon  the  lips  of  this  entrancing  teacher, 
when  he  discoursed,  not  only  of  "the  exploits 
of  Peterborough  and  Stanhope,  the  surprise  of 
Monjuich,  and  the  glorious  disaster  of  Brihuega," 
but  also  of  ghosts  and  banshees,  and  of  "  the 
great  Rapparee  chiefs,  Baldearg  O'Donnell  and 
galloping  Hogan."^  No  wonder  the  boy's 
friends  traced  to  these  distracting  narratives  his 
aimless,  vagrant  future.  He,  too,  began  to  scrib- 
ble doggerel,  to  devour  the  chap-book  histories 
of  "  Fair  Rosamond"  and  the  "  Seven  Cham- 
pions," or  to  study  with  avidity  the  less  edifying 
chronicles  of  "  Moll  Flanders"  and  "Jack  the 
Bachelor." 
There  were,  moreover,  other  influences  at  this 

1  Macaulay's  Miscellaneous  Writings,  1865,  pp.  298,  299. 


A  Memoir  7 

time  to  stir  his  childish  imagination,  which  could 
scarcely  have  found  him  the  "  impenetrably 
stupid  "  pupil  of  his  first  mistress.  There  were 
the  songs  of  the  blind  harper,  O'Carolan,  to 
awaken  in  him  a  love  of  music  which  he  never 
lost,  and  there  was  Peggy  Golden,  his  father's 
dairy-maid,  to  charm  his  ears  with  "  Johnny 
Armstrong's  Last  Good  Night,"  or  "The  Cru- 
elty of  Barbara  Allen."  But  an  untoward  cir- 
cumstance served  to  interrupt,  if  not  to  end, 
these  "violent  delights."  So  severely  was  he 
attacked  by  confluent  small-pox  that  he  nearly 
lost  his  life,  and  ever  afterwards  bore  the  traces 
of  that  disorder  deeply  scored  upon  his  features. 
Indeed,  it  may  be  said  to  have  also  left  its 
mark  upon  his  character.  Always  "  subject  to 
particular  humours,"  alternating  often  between 
extreme  reserve  and  boisterous  animal  spirits, 
his  natural  tendencies  were  not  improved  by  his 
changed  appearance.  One  of  the  earliest  anec- 
dotes recorded  of  him  turns  upon  this  misfortune. 
"  "Why,  Noll  I  "  said  an  inconsiderate  male  rela- 
tive, not  particularly  distinguished  for  his  wisdom 
or  integrity,  "  you  are  become  a  fright !  When 
do  you  mean  to  get  handsome  again?"  The 
boy  moved  uneasily  to  the  window  without 
replying,  and  the  question  was  sneeringly  re- 
peated.    "  I  mean  to  get  better,  sir,  when  you 


8  Oliver  Goldsmith 

do,"  he  answered  at  last.  Upon  another  occa- 
sion, when  there  was  a  part}'  at  his  uncle's  house, 
little  Oliver  capered  forth,  in  the  pause  between 
two  country  dances,  and  indulged  the  company 
with  a  hornpipe.  His  seamed  face  and  his  un- 
gainly figure  —  for  he  was  short  and  thick  of 
stature  —  excited  considerable  amusement,  and 
the  fiddler,  a  youth  named  Gumming,  called  out 
"  ^sop."  But  to  the  surprise  of  the  guests,  the 
dancer  promptly  retorted,  — 

"Heralds!   proclaim  aloud  !    all  saying, 
See  ALsop  dancing,  and  his  Monkey  playing  "  — 

a  couplet  which,  even  if  it  were  based  upon  a 
recollection,  as  is  most  probable,  at  all  events 
served  its  purpose  by  turning  the  laugh  against 
the  musician. 

When  these  events  took  place  he  had  already, 
for  some  obscure  reason,  been  transferred  from 
Byrne's  care  to  the  school  at  Elphin,  of  which 
his  grandfather  had  once  been  master  ;  and  he 
was  living  with  his  father's  brother,  John  Gold- 
smith of  Ballyoughter.  The  aforementioned 
instances  of  his  quickness,  no  doubt  carefully 
preserved  and  repeated  by  admiring  relatives, 
were  held  to  be  significant  of  latent  parts ;  and 
it  was  decided  that,  notwithstanding  the  ex- 
penses of  his  elder  brother  Henry's  education, 


A  Memoir  9 

which  were  draining  his  father's  scanty  means, 
he  should  have  all  attainable  advantages.  From 
Elphin,  relatives  apparently  aiding,  he  was  sent 
to  Athlone  to  a  school  kept  by  a  Mr.  Campbell. 
It  does  not  appear  that  he  presented  himself  to 
his  schoolfellows  in  the  same  light  as  to  those  of 
his  family  who  saw  him  at  his  best.  Mr.  Annes- 
ley  Strean,  who,  in  later  days,  became  curate  of 
Kilkenny  West,  and  conversed  with  many  of 
Goldsmith's  contemporaries,  found  him  to  have 
been  regarded  by  them  "  as  a  stupid,  heavy 
blockhead,  little  better  than  a  fool,  whom  every 
one  made  fun  of.  But  his  corporal  powers  dif- 
fered widely  from  this  apparent  state  of  his  mind, 
for  he  was  remarkably  active  and  athletic  ;  of 
which  he  gave  proofs  in  all  exercises  among  his 
playmates,  and  eminently  in  ball-playing,  which 
he  was  very  fond  of,  and  practised  whenever  he 
could."  1 

After  he  had  been  two  years  at  Athlone,  Mr. 
Campbell  gave  up  the  school  from  ill-health,  and 
Oliver  passed  to  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Patrick 
Hughes  of  Edgeworthstown,  a  friend  of  his 
father.  His  happiest  schooldays  must  have  been 
with  this  master.  Mr.  Hughes  understood  him. 
He  penetrated  his  superficial  obtuseness,  recog- 
nised his  morbidly  sensitive  nature,  and  managed 

^  Mangin's  Essay  on  Light  Reading,  i8oS,  p.  49. 


lo  Oliver  Goldsmith 

at  any  rate  to  think  better  of  him  than  his  play- 
mates, many  of  whom  only  succeeded  in  grow- 
ing up  to  be  blockheads.  At  Edgeworthstown 
there  were  traditions  of  his  studies,  of  his  love  for 
Ovid  and  Horace,  of  his  hatred  for  Cicero  and 
his  delight  in  Livy  and  Tacitus,  of  his  prowess 
in  boyish  sports  and  the  occasional  robbing  of 
orchards.  But  the  best  anecdote  of  this  time  is 
one  which  belongs  to  the  close  of  his  last  holi- 
days, when  he  was  between  fourteen  and  fifteen 
years  of  age.  Having  set  off  for  school  on  a 
borrowed  hack,  and  equipped  with  boundless 
riches  in  the  shape  of  a  guinea  given  him  by  a 
friend,  he  amused  himself  by  viewing  the  neigh- 
bouring country  seats  on  the  road,  intending 
ultimately  to  put  up  like  a  gentleman  at  an  inn. 
Night  fell,  and  he  found  himself  at  Ardagh,  half 
way  on  his  journey.  Casting  about  for  informa- 
tion as  to  "  the  best  house,"  that  is  to  say,  the 
inn  in  the  neighbourhood,  he  unluckily  lit  upon 
one  Cornelius  Kelly,  who  had  been  fencing- 
master  to  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  but,  what  is 
more  to  the  purpose,  was  a  confirmed  wag 
and  practical  joker.  Amused  with  Oliver's 
schoolboy  swagger,  he  gravely  directed  him  to 
the  mansion  of  the  local  magnate.  Squire 
Featherston.  To  Squire  Featherston's  the  lad 
accordingly  repaired,  and  called  lustily  for  some 


A  Memoir  ii 

one  to  take  his  horse.  Being  ushered  into 
the  presence  of  the  supposed  landlord  and  his 
family,  he  ordered  a  good  supper,  invited  the 
rest  to  share  it,  treated  them  to  a  bottle  or  two 
of  wine,  and  finally  retired  to  rest,  leaving  care- 
ful injunctions  that  a  hot  cake  should  be  pre- 
pared for  his  breakfast  on  the  morrow.  His 
host,  who  was  a  humourist,  and  moreover  knew 
something  of  his  visitor's  father,  never  unde- 
ceived him  ;  and  it  was  not  until  he  quitted  the 
supposed  inn  next  day  that  he  learned,  to  his  con- 
fusion, that  he  had  been  entertained  at  a  private 
house.  Thus  early  in  Oliver  Goldsmith's  career 
was  rehearsed  the  first  sketch  of  the  successful 
comedy  of  "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer." 

But  the  time  was  approaching  when  he  was 
to  enter  upon  the  college  life  to  which  all  his 
education  had  been  tending.  He  had  hoped  to 
go  to  Trinity  College  as  a  pensioner,  like  his 
brother  Henry,  who  in  1743  had  triumphantly 
obtained  a  scholarship.  This,  however,  was  not 
to  be.  Henry  Goldsmith  had  been  engaged  as 
tutor  to  the  son  of  a  gentleman  named  Hodson, 
residing  near  Athlone,  and  out  of  this  connec- 
tion had  resulted  a  secret  marriage  between  his 
pupil  and  his  sister  Catherine.  From  a  worldly 
point  of  view  the  match  was  an  excellent  one, 
as  the   Hodsons  were  wealthy  and  well-to-do  ; 


12  Oliver  Goldsmith 

but  the  reproaches  of  the  young  man's  father 
stung  Charles  Goldsmith  into  taking  a  step 
which  seriously  crippled  his  resources.  He 
entered  into  an  engagement  to  pay  a  marriage 
portion  of  ^400  with  his  daughter,  and  to  this 
end  taxed  his  farm  and  tithes  until  it  should  be 
defrayed.  There  was  more  of  wounded  pride 
than  of  strict  justice  in  this  procedure,  which 
must  have  kept  his  family  pinched  until  his 
death.  The  immediate  result  of  it  was  a  change 
in  the  prospects  of  his  second  son.  It  was  no 
longer  possible  to  send  him  to  college  as  a 
pensioner ;  he  must  go  in  a  more  economical 
way  as  a  "sizar"  or  poor  scholar.  At  that 
time,  as  now,  the  sizars  of  Trinity  College  were 
educated  without  charge  ;  they  had  free  lodgings 
in  the  college  garrets,  and  they  were  permitted 
to  "batten  on  cold  bits"  from  the  commons, 
table.  But  in  return  for  these  privileges,  they 
wore  a  distinctive  costume,  and  were  required 
to  perform  certain  menial  offices,  now  abolished. 
Young  Oliver,  endowed  by  nature  with  "  an 
exquisite  sensibility  of  contempt  "  —  to  use  his 
later  words  —  fought  hard  against  this  humiliat- 
ing entry  into  academic  life.  For  a  long  time 
he  resisted  his  fate  ;  but  finally,  owing  to  the 
influence  of  a  friendly  uncle,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Gontarine,  who  had  already  assisted  in  educat- 


A  Memoir  13 

ing  him,  he  yielded,  and  was  admitted  to 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  as  a  poor  scholar,  on 
the  nth  of  June,  1744,  being  then  fifteen.  In 
the  lives  of  Forster  and  Prior,  the  year  of 
admission  is  given  as  1745  ;  but  this  has  been 
shown  by  Dr.  J.  F.  Waller  to  be  an  error. 
Another  Edgeworthstown  pupil  of  the  name  of 
Beatty  came  with  him  ;  and  the  pair  took  up 
their  abode  in  the  garrets  of  what  was  then  No. 
35  in  a  range  of  buildings  which  has  long  since 
disappeared,  but  at  that  time  formed  the  eastern 
side  of  Parliament  Square. 

If  the  circumstances  of  Goldsmith's  initiation 
into  college  life  were  scarcely  favourable  to  his 
idiosyncrasy,  he  was  still  more  unfortunate  in 
the  tutor  with  whom  he  was  placed.  The  Rev. 
Theaker  Wilder,  to  whose  care  he  fell,  although 
a  man  of  considerable  ability,  was  apparently 
the  last  person  in  the  world  by  whom  his  pupil's 
peculiarities  could  be  indulgently  or  even  tem- 
perately regarded.  Wilder  was  a  man  of  vin- 
dictive character,  morose  and,  at  times,  almost 
ferocious  in  his  demeanour.  Once  —  so  the 
story  goes — with  a  sudden  bound  upon  a  pass- 
ing hackney-coach,  he  felled  to  the  ground  its 
luckless  driver,  who  had  accidentally  touched 
his  face  with  his  whip.  Under  such  a  master 
Goldsmith   could   but   fare   ill.      His   ungainly 


14  Oliver  Goldsmith 

appearance,  his  awkwardness,  and  a  certain 
mental  unreadiness,  which  he  never  afterwards 
lost,  except  when  he  had  pen  in  hand,  left  him 
wholly  at  the  mercy  of  his  persecutor,  who  saw 
in  him  nothing  but  the  evidence  of  a  dense  and 
stubborn  disposition.  To  make  matters  worse, 
Wilder  delighted  in  mathematics,  and  Goldsmith 
detested  them  as  much  as  Gray  did.  "This," 
he  said  later,  in  a  passage  which  had  more  of 
bitter  recollection  than  absolute  accuracy  — 
"  seems  a  science,  to  which  the  meanest  in- 
tellects are  equal.  I  forget  who  it  is  that  says 
'  All  men  might  understand  mathematics,  if 
they  would.'"  The  "dreary  subtleties"  of 
"  Dutch  Burgersdyck"  and  Polish  Smeglesius, 
the  luminaries  who  then  presided  over  the  study 
of  logic,  equally  repelled  him,  as  they  had  re- 
pelled his  predecessor.  Swift.  Everything  was 
thus  against  his  advancement  to  honours,  and 
the  measure  of  his  disqualification  was  filled  up 
by  a  certain  idle  habit  of  "  perpetually  lounging 
about  the  college-gate,"  (of  which,  by  the  way, 
Johnson  was  also  accused  at  Oxford,)  and  by  a 
boyish  love  of  pleasure  and  amusement.  He 
sang  with  considerable  taste  :  he  played  pass- 
ably upon  the  German  flute.  Both  of  these 
accomplishments  made  him  popular  with  many 
of  his  fellows,  but  they  were  not  those  from 


A  Memoir  15 

whose  ranks  the  distinguished  members  of  an 
university  are  usually  recruited. 

With  these  characteristics,  that  he  should  be 
associated  with  the  scandals  rather  than  with 
the  successes  of  an  academic  career  is  perhaps 
to  be  anticipated.  Accordingly,  in  May,  1747, 
we  find  him  involved  in  a  college  riot.  A 
report  had  been  circulated  that  a  scholar  had 
been  arrested  in  Fleet  Street  (Dublin).  This 
was  an  indignity  to  which  no  gownsman  could 
possibly  submit.  Led  by  a  wild  fellow  called 
"Gallows"  Walsh,  who,  among  the  students, 
exercised  the  enviable  and  self-conferred  office 
of  "  Controller-General  of  tumults  inordinary," 
they  carried  the  bailiff's  den  by  storm,  stripped 
the  unfortunate  wretch  who  was  the  chief  offen- 
der, and  ducked  him  soundly  in  the  college 
cistern.  Intoxicated  by  this  triumph  and  rein- 
forced by  the  town  mob,  they  then  proceeded 
to  attack  the  tumble-down  old  prison  known  as 
the  "  Black  Dog,"  with  a  view  to  a  general 
gaol  delivery.  But  the  constable  of  that  for- 
tress, being  a  resolute  man,  well  provided  with 
firearms,  made  a  gallant  defence,  the  result 
being  that  two  of  the  townsmen  were  killed 
and  others  wounded.  Four  of  the  ringleaders 
in  this  disastrous  affair  were  expelled.  Oliver 
Goldsmith  was  not  among  these  ;   but   having 


1 6  Oliver  Goldsmith 

"  aided  and  abetted,"  he  was,  with  three  others, 
publicly  admonished,  ^' quod  seditioni  favisset 
et  tumulluantibus  opem  tulissct."" 

From  the  stigma  of  this  censure,  he  recovered 
shortly  afterwards  by  a  small  success.  He  tried 
for  a  scholarship  and  failed  ;  but  he  gained  an 
exhibition  amounting  to  some  thirty  shillings. 
Unhappily  this  only  led  to  a  fresh  mishap. 
His  elation  prompted  him  to  celebrate  his  good 
fortune  by  an  entertainment  at  his  rooms,  which, 
to  add  to  its  enormity,  included  persons  of  both 
sexes.  No  sooner  was  the  unwonted  sound  of 
a  fiddle  heard  in  the  heights  of  No.  35,  than 
the  exasperated  Wilder  burst  upon  the  assem- 
bly, dispersing  the  terrified  guests,  and,  after  a 
torrent  of  abuse,  knocked  down  the  hapless 
host.  The  disgrace  was  overwhelming.  Hastily 
gathering  his  books  together,  the  poor  lad  sold 
them  for  what  they  would  fetch,  and  fairly  ran 
away,  vaguely  bound  for  America.  He  loitered, 
however,  in  Dublin  until  his  means  were  re- 
duced to  a  shilling,  and  then  set  out  for  Cork. 
After  reaching  perilously  close  to  starvation  — 
for  he  afterwards  told  Reynolds  that  a  handful 
of  grey  peas,  given  to  him  at  this  time  by  a 
good-natured  girl  at  a  wake,  was  the  most  com- 
fortable repast  he  had  ever  made — he  recovered 
his   senses,   and  turned   his  steps  homewards. 


A  Memoir  17 

His  brother  Henry  (his  father,  the  Rev.  Charles 
Goldsmith,  having  died  some  three  months  ear- 
lier) came  halfway  to  meet  and  receive  him. 
Ultimately  a  kind  of  reconciliation  was  patched 
up  with  his  tutor,  and  he  was  restored  to  the 
arms  of  his  Alma  Maler. 

Henceforth  his  university  life  was  less  event- 
ful. Wilder  still,  after  his  fashion,  pursued  his 
pupil  with  taunts  and  irony.  But,  beyond  fre- 
quent "  turnings-down,"  the  college  records 
contain  no  further  evidence  of  unusual  irregu- 
larity. His  pecuniary  supplies,  always  doubt- 
ful, had  become  more  uncertain  since  his  father's 
death,  and  now  consisted  chiefly  of  intermittent 
contributions  from  kind-hearted  Uncle  Con- 
tarine,  and  other  friends.  Often  he  must  have 
been  wholly  dependent  upon  petty  loans  from 
his  schoolmate  Beatty,  from  his  cousin  Robert 
Bryanton,  from  his  relative  Edward  Mills  of 
Roscommon,  —  all  of  whom  were  his  contem- 
poraries at  Trinity.  Sometimes  he  was  reduced 
to  pawn  his  books  —  "  mutare  quadrata  rotundis, 
like  the  silly  fellow  in  Horace,"  —  as  Wilder 
classically  put  it.  Another  method  of  making 
money,  to  which  he  occasionally  resorted,  was 
ballad-writing  of  a  humble  kind.  There  was  a 
shop  at  the  sign  of  the  Rein-deer  in  Mountrath 
Court,  where,  at  five  shillings  a  head,  he  found  a 


1 8  Oliver  Goldsmith 

ready  market  for  his  productions,  and  it  is  related 
that  he  would  steal  out  at  nightfall  to  taste  that 
supreme  delight  of  the  not-too-experienced  poet, 
the  hearing  them  sung  by  the  wandering  min- 
strels of  the  Dublin  streets.  Not  seldom,  it  is 
to  be  feared,  his  warmth  of  heart  prevented 
even  these  trivial  gains  from  benefiting  him, 
and  like  the  "  machine  of  pity  "  which  his  father 
had  brought  him  up  to  be,  he  had  parted  with 
them  to  some  importunate  petitioner  before  he 
reached  his  home.  Of  his  inconsiderate  charity 
in  this  way  a  ludicrous  anecdote  is  told.  Once 
Edward  Mills,  coming  to  summon  him  to  break- 
fast, was  answered  from  within,  that  he  must 
burst  open  the  door,  as  his  intended  guest  was 
unable  to  rise.  He  was,  in  fact,  struggling  to 
extricate  himself  from  the  ticking  of  his  bed, 
into  which,  in  the  extreme  cold,  he  had  crawled, 
having  surrendered  his  blankets  to  a  poor  wo- 
man who,  on  the  preceding  night,  had  van- 
quished him  with  a  pitiful  story. 

On  the  27th  February,  1749,  he  was  admitted 
to  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts,  and  his 
college  days  came  to  an  end.  One  of  the  relics 
of  this  epoch,  o.  folio  Scapula,  scrawled  liberally 
with  signatures  and  '^  promises  to  pay,"  was,  in 
1837,  in  the  possession  of  his  first  biographer, 
Prior.     He  also  left  his  autograph  on  one  of  the 


A  Memoir  19 

panes  of  No.  35.  When,  sixty  years  ago,  that 
row  of  buildings  was  pulled  down,  this  treasure 
was  transferred  to  the  library  room  of  Trinity 
College,  where  it  remains.  But  perhaps  the 
most  significant  memorial  of  his  Dublin  life  is 
to  be  found  in  a  passage  from  one  of  his  later 
letters  to  his  brother  Henry.  "The  reasons 
you  have  given  me  for  breeding  up  your  son  a 
scholar  are  judicious  and  convincing.  ...  If  he 
be  assiduous,  and  divested  of  strong  passions, 
(for  passions  in  youth  always  lead  to  pleasure,) 
he  may  do  very  well  in  your  college  ;  for  it  must 
be  owned,  that  the  industrious  poor  have  good 
encouragement  there,  perhaps  better  than  in 
any  other  in  Europe.  But  if  he  has  ambition, 
strong  passions,  and  an  exquisite  sensibility  of 
contempt,  do  not  send  him  there,  unless  you 
have  no  other  trade  for  him  except  your  own."  ^ 
1  Miscellaneous  Works,  1801,  i,  55. 


CHAPTER    II 

Waiting  for  orders;  rejected  by  the  Bishop  of  Elphin,  175 1; 
tutor  to  Mr,  Flinn;  sets  out  for  America,  and  returns  ;  letter 
to  his  mother;  starts  again  fruitlessly  as  a  law  student ;  goes 
to  Edinburgh  to  study  medicine :  becomes  a  member  of  the 
Medical  Society  there,  January  13,  1753;  life  in  Scotland; 
starts  for  Paris ;  adventures  by  the  way ;  arrives  at  Leyden ; 
life  there;  leaves  Leyden,  February,  1755;  travels  on  foot 
through  Flanders  and  France  ;  travelling  tutor  (?) ;  anecdote 
of  Voltaire;  further  travels;  arrives  in  England,  February  i, 
1756. 

T"\7HEN  Oliver  Goldsmith  assembled  his 
'  *  poor  belongings,  and  took  his  last,  and 
possibly  regretful,  look  at  that  scrawled  signa- 
ture on  the  window  of  No.  35  which  was  to 
become  so  precious  a  memento  to  posterity,  his 
prospects  were  of  the  most  indefinite  kind.  His 
father's  death  had  broken  up  the  old  home  at 
Lissoy  ;  and  the  house  itself  was  now  occupied 
by  Mr.  Hodson,  to  whom  the  land  had  fallen 
in  consequence  of  the  arrangements  made  by 
Charles  Goldsmith  for  endowing  his  daughter 
Catherine.  Henry  Goldsmith  was  domiciled  in 
the  farm  at  Pallas,  serving  the  curacy  of  Kil- 
kenny West,  and  teaching  the  village    school. 


A  Memoir  21 

Mrs.  Goldsmith,  Oliver's  mother,  had  retired  to 
a  little  cottage  at  Ballymahon,  and  her  circum- 
stances were  not  such  as  enabled  her  to  support 
her  son,  especially  as  she  had  other  children. 
Obviously  he  must  do  something,  but  what  ? 
The  church  appeared  to  afford  the  only  practi- 
cable opening ;  and  he  was  urged  by  his  rela- 
tives and  his  Uncle  Contarine  to  qualify  for 
orders.  To  this  proposal  he  had  himself  strong 
objections.  "To  be  obliged  to  wear  a  long 
wig,  when  he  liked  a  short  one,  or  a  black  coat, 
when  he  generally  dressed  in  brown,"  —  he  said 
afterwards  in  "The  Citizen  of  the  World,"  — 
was  "a  restraint  upon  his  liberty."  Perhaps 
also — to  quote  a  reason  he  gave  in  later  life 
for  not  reading  prayers  —  he  "did  not  think 
himself  good  enough."  Yet  he  yielded  to  the 
importunity  of  those  about  him ;  and  as  he  was 
too  young  to  be  ordained,  agreed  to  make  the 
needful  preparations.  "There  is  reason  to 
believe,"  remarks  Prior,  gravely,  "  that  at  this 
time  he  followed  no  systematic  plan  of  study." 
On  the  contrary,  he  seems  to  have  occupied 
himself  in  a  much  more  agreeable  manner. 
From  Ballymahon  he  wandered  to  Lissoy,  from 
Lissoy  to  Pallas,  from  Pallas  to  Uncle  Con- 
tarine's  at  Roscommon,  leading,  as  Thackeray 
says,  "  the  life  of  a  buckeen,"  which  is  a  minor 


2  2  Oliver  Goldsmith 

form  of  "squireen,"  which  again  is  the  diminu- 
tive of  'squire.  In  most  of  its  characteristics, 
his  mode  of  existence  must  have  resembled  that 
of  the  typical  eighteenth-century  younger 
brother,  Will  Wimble.  It  was  made  up  largely 
of  journeyings  from  one  house  to  another,  of 
friendly  fetching  and  carrying,  of  fishing  and 
otter  hunting  in  the  isleted  River  Inny,  of 
throwing  the  hammer  at  neighboufing  fairs, 
of  flute  playing  with  his  cousin,  Jane  Contarine, 
and,  lastly,  of  taking  the  chair  at  the  convivial 
meetings  held  nightly  at  one  George  Conway's 
Inn  at  Ballymahon.  Here  he  was  a  triton 
among  the  minnows,  the  delight  of  horse-doctors 
and  bagmen,  and  the  idol  of  his  former  college 
associate.  Bob  Bryanton,  now  of  Ballymulvey. 
In  days  to  come  he  would  recur  fondly  to  this 
disengaged,  irresponsible  time.  It  was  of  him- 
self, not  Tony  Lumpkin,  that  he  was  thinking, 
when  he  attributed  to  that  unlettered  humourist 
the  composition  of  the  excellent  drinking  song 
in  "She  Stoops  to  Conquer."  It  was  of  him- 
self, too,  that  he  wrote  —  though  his  biographers 
have  ignored  the  fact  —  when  he  makes  him  de- 
clare that  he  "  always  lov'd  Cousin  Con's  hazel 
eyes,  and  her  pretty  long  fingers,  that  she  twists 
this  way  and  that,  over  the  haspichoUs,  like  a 


A  Memoir  23 

parcel  of  bobbins."^     For  who  should  "  Cousin 
Con  "  be  but  Jane  Contarine  ? 

There  was,  however,  to  be  little  romance  of 
this  kind  in  Oliver's  chequered  life.  "  Cousin 
Con"  in  time  became  Mrs.  Lawder,  and  the 
inevitable  hour  at  length  arrived  when  the  part- 
ner of  her  concerts  must  present  himself  for 
ordination  to  the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Synge,  Bishop 
of  Elphin,  by  whom,  sad  to  say,  he  was  rejected. 
Whether,  as  is  most  probable,  he  had  neglected 
the  preliminary  studies,  whether  the  bishop 
had  heard  an  ill  report  of  his  college  career, 
or  whether,  as  Mr.  Strean  asserted,  he  com- 
mitted the  solecism  of  appearing  before  his 
examiner  in  a  pair  of  flaming  scarlet  breeches,  ^ 
are  still  debatable  questions.  The  fact  remains 
that  he  was  refused  acceptance  as  a  clergyman, 
and  must  find  a  fresh  vocation.  Uncle  Con- 
tarine, good  at  need,  fitted  him  with  a  place  as 
tutor  to  a  gentleman  of  Roscommon  of  the  name 
of  Flinn.  But  he  speedily,  in  consequence  of 
the  confinement,  according  to  one  account,  in 
consequence  of  a  quarrel  about  cards,  accord- 
ing to  another,  relinquished  this  employ  ;  and, 
with  thirty  pounds  of  savings  in  his  pocket,  a 
circumstance  which,  to  some  extent,  negatives 

^  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  Act  iv. 

'  Mangin's  Essay  on  Light  Reading,  1808,  p.  150. 


24  Oliver  Goldsmith 

the  card  story,  quitted  his  mother's  house  on  a 
good  horse,  and  an  uncertain  errand.  In  about 
six  weeks  he  re-appeared,  without  money,  and 
having  substituted  for  his  roadster  a  miserable 
animal  which  he  had  christened  contemptuously 
by  the  name  of  Fiddleback.  His  mode  of  de- 
parture had  been  somewhat  inconsiderate  ;  his 
mode  of  returning  was  eminently  unsatisfactory, 
and  Mrs.  Goldsmith  was  naturally  greatly  in- 
censed. Nor  was  she  in  any  wise  mollified  by  his 
simple  wonderment  that,  after  all  his  struggles  to 
get  home  again,  she  was  not  more  pleased  to 
see  him.  His  brothers  and  sisters,  however, 
effected  a  reconciliation  ;  and  he  afterwards 
wrote  to  his  mother  from  Pallas  a  detailed 
account  of  his  adventures.  The  letter,  of  which 
Prior  gives  a  copy,  is  believed  to  be  authentic  ; 
but  it  is  more  than  suspected  that  romance  has 
coloured  the  narrative.  He  had  gone  to  Cork, 
it  says,  sold  his  horse,  and  taken  a  passage  for 
America.  But  the  ship  sailed  without  him  when 
he  was  junketing  in  the  country,  and  he  re- 
mained in  Cork  until  he  had  but  two  guineas 
left.  Thereupon  he  had  invested  in  "that 
generous  beast,  Fiddleback,"  and  turned  Bally- 
mahonwards  with  a  residuum  of  five  shillings  in 
his  pocket,  half  of  which  went  promptly  to  a 
poor  woman  he  met  on  the  road.     He  then  pro- 


A  Memoir  25 

ceeded  to  call  upon  a  college  friend,  who  had 
often  given  him  one  of  those  warm  general  in- 
vitations which  are  conventionally  extended  to 
unlikely  visitors.  His  host  turned  out  to  be  a 
miser  and  a  valetudinarian,  who  shamelessly 
parodied  Bishop  Jeuel  by  recommending  him  to 
sell  his  horse,  and  purchase  a  stout  walking  stick.^ 
While  staying  with  this  inhospitable  entertainer, 
he  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  counsellor-at-law 
in  the  neighbourhood,  "  a  man  of  engaging  aspect 
and  polite  address,"  who  asked  him  to  dinner, 
"  And  now,  my  dear  mother,"  the  letter  con- 
cludes, "  I  found  sufficient  to  reconcile  me  to  all 
my  follies  ;  for  here  I  spent  three  whole  days. 
The  counsellor  had  two  sweet  girls  to  his 
daughters,  who  played  enchantingly  on  the 
harpischord  ;  and  yet  it  was  but  a  melancholy 
pleasure  I  felt  the  first  time  I  heard  them  ;  for 
that  being  the  first  time  also  that  either  of  them 
had  touched  the  instrument  since  their  mother's 
death,  I  saw  the  tears  in  silence  trickle  down 
their  father's  cheeks.  I  every  day  endeavoured 
to  go  away,  but  every  day  was  pressed  and 
obliged  to  stay.  On  my  going,  the  counsellor 
offered  me  his  purse,  with  a  horse  and  servant 
to  convey  me  home  ;  but  the  latter  I  declined, 
and  only  took  a  guinea  to  bear  my  necessary  ex- 

1  Cf.  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  1766,  i,  20. 


26  Oliver  Goldsmith 

penses  on  the  road."^    And  thus  he  had  arrived 
at  Ballymahon. 

The  next  step  is  thus  briefly  recounted  by  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Hodson.  "  His  uncle  Contarine, 
who  was  also  reconciled  to  him,  now  resolved  to 
send  him  to  the  Temple,  that  he  might  make  the 
law  his  profession.  But  in  his  way  to  London, 
he  met  at  Dublin  with  a  sharper  who  tempted 
him  to  play,  and  emptied  his  pockets  of  fifty 
pounds,  with  which  he  had  been  furnished  for 
his  voyage  and  journey.  He  was  obliged  again 
to  return  to  his  poor  mother,  whose  sorrow  at 
his  miscarriages  need  not  be  described,  and  his 
own  distress  and  disgrace  may  readily  be  con- 
ceived."'* To  this  Prior  adds  that  the  sharper 
was  a  Roscommon  acquaintance,  and  that  Gold- 
smith continued  some  time  in  Dublin  without 
daring  to  confess  his  loss.  According  to  Mrs. 
Hodson,  "he  was  again  forgiven;"  but  his 
mother,  it  appears,  declined  to  receive  him,  and 
he  took  up  his  abode  with  his  brother  Henry. 
This  last  arrangement  was  interrupted  by  a 
quarrel,  and  in  all  probability  most  of  the 
remaining  time  he  spent  in  Ireland  was  passed 
with  his  long-suffering  Uncle  Contarine.  The 
old  flute   playing  was  resumed,   and  there  are 

1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  125. 

2  Miscellaneous  Works,  1801,  i,  14. 


A  Memoir  27 

traditions  that  he  occupied  his  leisure  in  the  con- 
fection of  more  or  less  amatory  lyrics  for  his 
"  Cousin  Con's  "  edification.  But  the  time  was 
fast  approaching  when  he  was  to  quit  his  Irish 
home  for  ever. 

One  of  his  relatives,  a  certain  Dean  Gold- 
smith of  Cloyne,  whose  remarks  were  regarded 
in  the  family  as  oracular,  occasionally  visited 
Mr.  Contarine,  and  this  gentleman,  struck  by 
something  that  dropped  from  his  young  kinsman, 
was  pleased  to  declare  that  he  "  would  make  an 
excellent  medical  man."  This  deliverance  being 
considered  decisive,  another  purse  was  contrib- 
uted by  Oliver's  uncle,  brother,  and  sister,  and 
in  the  autumn  of  1752  he  set  out  once  more  to 
seek  his  elusive  fortune.  Upon  this  occasion 
he  reached  his  destination,  which  was  Edin- 
burgh. His  arrival  there  was  nevertheless 
distinguished  by  a  characteristic  adventure. 
Having  engaged  a  lodging,  he  set  out  at  once 
to  view  the  city,  but  having  omitted  to  make  any 
inquiries  as  to  the  name  and  locality  of  his  new 
home,  he  was  unable  to  find  it  again,  and,  but 
for  an  accidental  meeting  with  the  porter  who 
had  carried  his  baggage,  must  have  begun  his 
stay  in  Scotland  with  a  fresh  misfortune. 

On  January  15,  171)  5,  he  became  a  member  of 
the  Medical  Society  of  Edinburgh,  a  voluntary 


28  Oliver  Goldsmith 

association  of  the  students,  and  he  seems  to  have 
attended  the  lectures  of  Alexander  Monro,  the 
Professor  of  Anatomy,  and  of  others.  But  the 
record  of  his  social  qualities,  his  tale-telling  and 
his  singing,  is  richer  than  the  record  of  his 
studies.  His  first  known  piece  of  verse,  exclu- 
sive of  the  iEsop  couplet,  is  an  epigram  called 
"  The  Clown's  Reply,"  dated  "  Edinburgh, 
17^3";  and  one  or  two  of  his  letters  to  his 
friends  have  survived.  He  was  not  a  willing 
letter-writer.  "  An  hereditary  indolence  (I  have 
it  from  the  mother's  side)  has  hitherto  prevented 
my  writing  to  you,"  he  says  to  Bob  Bryanton, 
"  and  still  prevents  my  writing  at  least  twenty- 
five  letters  more,  due  to  my  friends  in  Ireland. 
No  turnspit-dog  gets  up  into  his  wheel  with 
more  reluctance  than  I  sit  down  to  write  ;  yet 
no  dog  ever  loved  the  roast  meat  he  turns  better 
than  I  do  him  I  now  address."^  But  already 
he  exhibits  that  delightful  narrative  ease  which 
distinguishes  ''  The  Citizen  of  the  World," 
from  which  the  following,  with  its  glimpse  of 
the  fair  and  hapless  Duchess  of  Hamilton,  once 
Miss  Elizabeth  Gunning,  might  be  an  extract : — 

'*  We    have    no   such   character  here   as    a 
coquet,  but  alas  I  how  many  envious  prudes  1 

^  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  139-140. 


A  Memoir  29 

Some  days  ago,  I  walked  into  my  Lord  Kil- 
coubry's  [Kirkcudbright's]  (don't  be  surprised, 
my  lord  is  but  a  glover  ^)  when  the  Duchess  of 
Hamilton  (that  fair  who  sacrificed  her  beauty  to 
her  ambition,  and  her  inward  peace  to  a  title 
and  gilt  equipage)  passed  by  in  her  chariot ;  her 
battered  husband,  or  more  properly,  the  guardian 
of  her  charms,  sat  by  her  side.  Straight  envy 
began,  in  the  shape  of  no  less  than  three  ladies 
who  sat  with  me,  to  find  faults  in  her  faultless 
form.  '  For  my  part,'  says  the  first,  '  I  think, 
what  I  always  thought,  that  the  Duchess  has  too 
much  of  the  red  in  her  complexion.'  '  Madam, 
I  am  of  your  opinion,' says  the  second  ;  '  I  think 
her  face  has  a  palish  cast,  too  much  on  the 
delicate  order.'  '  And  let  me  tell  you,'  added 
the  third  lady,  whose  mouth  was  puckered  up 
to  the  size  of  an  issue,  '  that  the  Duchess  has 
fine  lips,  but  she  wants  a  mouth.'  At  this  every 
lady  drew  up  her  mouth  as  if  going  to  pronounce 
the  letter  P."  2 

One  wonders  whether  Dickens  recalled  this 
passage,  when  he  drew  that  delightful  mistress 

1  "  William  Maclellan,"  says  Prior,  "  who  claimed  the 
title,  and  whose  son  succeeded  in  establishing  the  claim 
in  1773." 

2  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  143-4. 


3©  Oliver  Goldsmith 

of  the  proprieties,  who  expatiated  upon  the 
inestimable  advantages  to  the  feminine  lips  of 
habitually  pronouncing  such  words  as  "  prunes  " 
and  "  prism."  In  two  more  letters  Goldsmith 
writes  affectionately  to  his  Uncle  Contarine  of 
his  professors  and  occupations,  of  a  month's  tour 
in  the  Highlands  on  a  horse  "  of  about  the  size 
of  a  ram,"  and  so  forth.  But  he  is  already  rest- 
lessly meditating  another  move,  —  he  proposes 
to  go  to  Leyden  to  attend  the  lectures  of  Albinus. 
From  the  latter  of  these  two  epistles,  his  uncle's 
consent  has  been  obtained,  and  he  is  preparing  to 
start,  not  for  Leyden  but  for  Paris,  "  where  the 
great  Mr,  Farhein,  Petit,  and  Du  Hamel  du 
Monceau  instruct  their  pupils  in  all  the  branches 
of  medicine."  "  They  speak  French  "  [i.  e.,  in 
contradistinction  to  the  Latin  of  other  conti- 
nental professors],  he  goes  on,  "  and  conse- 
quently I  shall  have  much  the  advantage  of 
most  of  my  countrymen,  as  I  am  perfectly  ac- 
quainted with  that  language,  and  few  who  leave 
Ireland  are  so."^  From  another  passage  in  this 
letter,  he  would  seem  to  have  been  for  some  time 
an  inmate  of,  or  rather  visitor  at,  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton's  house,  but  the  allusion  is  obscure. 

"With  these  letters,  and  what  of  instruction 
may  be  extracted  from  a  set  of  tailor's  bills  re- 
1  Prior's  Li/e,  1S37,  i,  155. 


A  Memoir  31 

covered  by  Foster,  which  show  that  "  Mr.  Oliver 
Goldsmith,  Student,"  was  helping  to  confirm  the 
Elphin  story  of  the  red  breeches  by  indulging  in 
such  "peacock's  feathers"  as  "silver  Hatt- 
Lace,"  "rich  Sky-Blew  sattin/'  "Genoa  vel- 
vett,"  and  "  best  sfine  high  Clarett-colour'd 
Cloth  "  at  19s.  a  yard,^  the  record  of  his  stay 
in  the  Scottish  capital,  as  far  as  it  can  be 
chronicled  in  these  pages,  comes  to  an  end. 
But  he  was  not  to  quit  the  country,  nor  indeed 
to  leave  Edinburgh,  without  further  adventures. 
His  departure,  according  to  the  Percy  Memoir, 
was  all  but  prevented  by  his  arrest  for  a  debt 
contracted  as  surety  for  a  friend.  From  this 
bondage,  however,  he  was  released  by  two 
college  associates,  Mr.  Lauchlan  Macleane 
and  Dr.  Sleigh.  His  subsequent  experiences 
must  be  related  in  his  own  words  to  his  Uncle 
Contarine,  written  from  "  Madame  Diallion's, 
at  Leyden,"  a  few  weeks  later.  "Sometime 
after  the  receipt  of  your  last,"  he  says,  "  I  em- 
barked for  Bourdeaux,  on  board  a  Scotch  ship 
called  the  St.  Andrews,  Capt.  John  Wall,  master. 
The  ship  made  a  tolerable  appearance,  and  as 
another  inducement,  I  was  let  to  know  that  six 
agreeable  passengers  were  to  be  in  my  company. 
Well,   we  were  but  two    days  at  sea  when  a 

1  Forster's  Z//;-,  1S77,  i,  52. 


32  Oliver  Goldsmith 

storm  drove  us  into  a  city  of  England  called 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  We  all  went  a-shore 
to  refresh  us  after  the  fatigue  of  our  voyage. 
Seven  men  and  I  were  one  day  on  shore, 
and  on  the  following  evening  as  we  were  all 
very  merry,  the  room  door  bursts  open :  enters  a 
Serjeant  and  twelve  grenadiers  with  their  bayo- 
nets screwed :  and  puts  us  all  under  the  King's 
arrest.  It  seems  my  company  were  Scotchmen 
in  the  French  service,  and  had  been  in  Scotland 
to  enlist  soldiers  for  the  French  army.  I  en- 
deavoured all  I  could  to  prove  my  innocence ; 
however,  I  remained  in  prison  with  the  rest  a 
fortnight,  and  with  difficulty  got  off  even  then. 
Dear  Sir,  keep  all  this  a  secret,  or  at  least  say  it 
was  for  debt ;  for  if  it  were  once  known  at  the 
university,  I  should  hardly  get  a  degree.  But 
hear  how  Providence  interposed  in  my  favour  : 
the  ship  was  gone  on  to  Bourdeaux  before  I  got 
from  prison,  and  was  wrecked  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Garonne,  and  every  one  of  the  crew  were 
drowned.  It  happened  the  last  great  storm. 
There  was  a  ship  at  that  time  ready  for  Holland : 
I  embarked,  and  in  nine  days,  thank  my  God, 
I  arrived  safe  at  Rotterdam ;  whence  I  travelled 
by  land  to  Leyden  ;  and  whence  I  now  write."  ■■ 
As  usual,  a  certain  allowance  must  be  made  in 
1  Miscellaneous  Works,  i8oi,  i,  27-8. 


A  Memoir  33 

this  account  for  picturesque  decoration.  In  the 
remainder  of  the  letter  he  touches  humourously 
on  the  contrast  between  the  Dutch  about  him 
and  the  Scotch  he  has  just  left ;  describes  the 
phlegmatic  pleasures  of  the  country,  the  ice- 
boats, and  the  delights  of  canal  travelling. 
"They  sail  in  covered  boats  drawn  by  horses," 
he  says;  "and  in  these  you  are  sure  to  meet 
people  of  all  nations.  Here  the  Dutch  slumber, 
the  French  chatter,  and  the  English  play  at  cards. 
Any  man  who  likes  company  may  have  them  to 
his  taste.  For  my  part,  I  generally  detached 
myself  from  all  society,  and  was  wholly  taken  up 
in  observing  the  face  of  the  country.  Nothing 
can  equal  its  beauty ;  wherever  I  turn  my  eye, 
fine  houses,  elegant  gardens,  statues,  grottos, 
vistas  presented  themselves ;  but  when  you  enter 
their  towns  you  are  charmed  beyond  descrip- 
tion. No  misery  is  to  be  seen  here;  every  one 
is  usefully  employed."  ^  Already,  it  is  plain,  he 
was  insensibly  storing  up  material  for  the  subse- 
quent "Traveller." 

But  the  actual  occurrences  of  his  life  are,  for 
the  moment,  more  urgent  than  his  impressions  of 
Holland.  Little  is  known,  in  the  way  of  fact, 
as  to  his  residence  at  Leyden.  Gaubius,  tlie 
professor  of  chemistry,  is  indeed  mentioned  in 

1  Miscellaneous  Works,  iSoi,  i,  31. 
3 


34  Oliver  Goldsmith 

one  of  his  works ;  but  it  would  be  too  much  to 
conclude  an  intimacy  from  a  chance  reference. 
From  the  account  of  a  fellow-countryman,  Dr. 
Ellis,  then  a  student  like  himself,  he  was,  as 
always,  frequently  pressed  for  money,  often 
supporting  himself  by  teaching  his  native  lan- 
guage, and  now  and  then,  in  the  hope  of  recruit- 
ing his  finances,  resorting  to  the  gaming-table. 
On  one  occasion,  according  to  this  informant, 
he  had  a  successful  run  ;  but,  disregarding  the 
advice  of  his  friend  to  hold  his  hand,  he  lost  his 
gains  almost  immediately.  By  and  by  the  old 
restless  longing  to  see  foreign  countries,  prob- 
ably dating  from  the  days  when  he  was  a  pupil 
under  Thomas  Byrne,  came  back  with  redoubled 
force.  The  recent  death  of  the  Danish  savant 
and  playwright,  Baron  de  Holberg,  who  in  his 
youth  had  made  the  tour  of  Europe  on  foot, 
probably  suggested  the  way  ;  and  equipped  with 
a  small  loan  from  Dr.  Ellis,  he  determined  to 
leave  Leyden.  Unhappil}^,  in  passing  a  florist's, 
he  saw  some  rare  bulbs,  which  he  straightway 
transmitted  to  his  Uncle  Contarine.  His  imme- 
diate resources  being  thus  disposed  of,  he  quitted 
Leyden  in  February,  ij)^,  "  with  only  one  clean 
shirt,  and  no  money  in  his  pocket."  ^ 

His  exact  itinerary,  once  given  verbally  to  Dr. 

1  Miscellaneous  Works,  1801,  i,  34. 


A  Memoir  35 

Percy,  is  now  undiscoverable.  No  letters  of 
this  date  are  Icnown  to  exist.  That  he  travelled 
on  foot  is  clear.  "  Haud  inexpertus  loquor,'"  he 
said  later,  when  praising  this  method  of  locomo- 
tion ;  and  Cook,  who  wrote  of  him  in  The 
European  Magazine  for  1793,  says  he  would 
often  "with  great  pleasantry,"  speak  "of  his 
distresses  on  the  Continent,  such  as  living  on 
the  hospitalities  of  the  friars  in  convents,  sleep- 
ing in  barns,  and  picking  up  a  kind  of  mendicant 
livelihood  by  the  German  flute."  "  I  had  some 
knowledge  of  music"  —  says  George  Primrose 
in  the  "  Vicar  "  —  "  with  a  tolerable  voice,  and 
now  turned  what  was  once  my  amusement  into 
a  present  means  of  bare  subsistence.  I  passed 
among  the  harmless  peasants  of  Flanders,  and 
among  such  of  the  French  as  are  poor  enough  to 
be  very  merry  ;  for  I  ever  found  them  sprightly 
in  proportion  to  their  wants.  Whenever  I  ap- 
proached a  peasant's  house  towards  nightfall,  I 
played  one  of  my  most  merry  tunes,  and  that 
procured  me  not  only  a  lodging,  but  subsistence 
for  the  next  day.  I  once  or  twice  attempted  to 
play  for  people  of  fashion ;  but  they  still  thought 
my  performance  odious,  and  never  rewarded  me 
even  with  a  trifle."  ^  For  George  Primrose  we 
may  read  Oliver  Goldsmith. 

1   Vicar  of  Wakefield,  1 766,  ii,  24-5. 


36  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Louvain  seems  to  have  been  his  first  tarrying 

place ;  and  here,  tradition  affirms,  he  obtained 
that  "authority  to  slay,"  the  degree  of  M.B., 
later  appended  to  his  name.  But  the  records  of 
the  University  of  Louvain  vv^ere  lost  in  the  wars 
of  the  Revolution,  and  the  statement  cannot  be 
verified.  There  are  indications  of  his  having 
been  at  Antwerp,  at  Brussels,  and  at  Maestricht. 
His  musical  performances  in  France  have  already 
been  referred  to.  At  Paris  he  attended  the 
chemical  lectures  of  Lavoisier's  master,  the 
famous  Guillaume-Franfois  Rouelle,  for^  in  the 
"  Polite  Learning,"  he  expressly  speaks  of  the 
number  of  ladies  in  the  audience.-^  His  means 
of  subsistence  at  this  time  are  involved  in  ob- 
scurity. It  has  been  asserted,  although  direct 
evidence  is  wanting,  that  he  acted  as  tutor  or 
governor  to  an  exceedingly  miserly  young  man 
of  the  middle  classes  ;  and  there  are  passages  in 
George  Primrose's  after-experiences,  which  lend 
colour  to  such  a  view.  "■  I  was  to  be  the  young 
gentleman's  governor,  with  this  injunction,  that 
he  should  always  be  permitted  to  direct  him- 
self. My  pupil  in  fact  understood  the  art  of 
guiding  in  money  concerns  much  better  than  me. 
He  was  heir  to  a  fortune  of  about  two  hundred 
thousand  pounds,  left  him  by  an  uncle  in  the 
1  An  Enquiry,  etc.,  1759,  p.  103. 


A  Memoir  37 

West  Indies ;  and  his  guardians,  to  qualify  him 
for  the  management  of  it,  had  bound  him  ap- 
prentice to  an  attorney.  Thus  avarice  was  his 
prevailing  passion  :  all  his  questions  on  the  road 
werehovi^  much  money  could  be  saved.  .  .  .  Such 
curiosities  on  the  w^ay  as  could  be  seen  for  noth- 
ing, he  was  ready  enough  to  look  at ;  but  if  the 
sight  was  to  be  paid  for,  he  usually  asserted  that 
he  had  been  told  it  was  not  worth  seeing.  He 
never  paid  a  bill,  that  he  would  not  observe, 
how  amazingly  expensive  travelling  was."  ^  But 
whether  this  is  autobiographical,  or  not.  Gold- 
smith must,  in  some  way  or  other,  have  procured 
money,  since  without  it,  he  could  not  have  gone 
to  the  play,  and  seen  the  famous  Mdlle.  Clairon, 
of  whom  he  afterwards  wrote  so  sympathetically 
in  Thz  Bee.  From  the  French  capital  he  passed 
to  Germany;  thence  to  Switzerland.  It  is  at 
Geneva  —  at  Voltaire's  recently  purchased  resi- 
dence of  "  Les  D^lices  "  —  that  Mr.  Forster 
conjecturally  places  an  incident  which  Gold- 
smith afterwards  described  in  his  memoirs  of  the 
philosopher  of  Ferney.  "The  person  who  writes 
this  Memoir,"  he  says,  "who  had  the  honour  and 
pleasure  of  being  his  [Voltaire's]  acquaintance, 
remembers  to  have  seen  him  in  a  select  company 
of  wits  of  both  sexes  at  Paris,  when  the  subject 
1  Ficar  of  Wakefield,  1766,  ii,  29,  30. 


38  Oliver  Goldsmith 

happened  to  turn  upon  English  taste  and  learn- 
ing. Fontenelle,  who  was  of  the  party,  and 
who  being  unacquainted  with  the  language  or 
authors  of  the  country  he  undertook  to  condemn, 
with  a  spirit  truly  vulgar  began  to  revile  both. 
Diderot,  who  liked  the  English,  and  knew  some- 
thing of  their  literary  pretensions,  attempted  to 
vindicate  their  poetry  and  learning,  but  with  un- 
equal abilities.  The  company  quickly  perceived 
that  Fontenelle  was  superior  in  the  dispute,  and 
were  surprised  at  the  silence  which  Voltaire  had 
preserved  all  the  former  part  of  the  night,  par- 
ticularly as  the  conversation  happened  to  turn 
upon  one  of  his  favourite  topics.  Fontenelle 
continued  his  triumph  till  about  twelve  o'clock, 
when  Voltaire  appeared  at  last  roused  from  his 
reverie.  His  whole  frame  seemed  animated. 
He  began  his  defence  with  the  utmost  elegance 
mixed  with  spirit,  and  now  and  then  let  fall  the 
finest  strokes  of  raillery  upon  his  antagonist ; 
and  his  harangue  lasted  till  three  in  the  morning. 
I  must  confess  that,  whether  from  national  par- 
tiality, or  from  the  elegant  sensibility  of  his  man- 
ner, I  never  was  so  much  charmed,  nor  aid  I  ever 
remember  so  absolute  a  victory  as  he  gained  irt 
this  dispute."  ^  Goldsmith,  it  will  be  seen,  places 
this  occurrence  at  Paris,  and,  as  one  of  his  later 
1  Gibbs's  Goldsmith's  Works,  1885,  iv,  24,  25. 


A  Memoir  39 

editors,  Mr.  Gibbs,  pertinently  enough  points 
out,  the  transference  of  the  scene  to  "  Les 
D^lices"  involves  the  not  very  explicable  pres- 
ence in  Switzerland  of  Diderot  and  Fontenelle, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  "select  company  of  wits 
of  both  sexes."  But  these  discrepancies,  due 
to  haste,  to  confusion,  or  perhaps  to  the  habit, 
already  referred  to,  of  "loading"  his  narrative, 
do  not  make  it  necessary  to  conclude  that  Gold- 
smith had  not  seen  and  heard  Voltaire. 

In  Switzerland  Goldsmith  remained  some  time, 
chiefly  at  Geneva,  visiting  from  thence  Basle, 
Berne,  and  other  places.  He  speaks,  in  the 
"  Animated  Nature,"  of  woodcocks  flushed  on 
Mount  Jura,  of  a  frozen  cataract  seen  at  Schafl"- 
hausen,  of  a  "very  savoury  dinner  "  eaten  on  the 
Alps.  Later,  he  passed  into  Piedmont,  and 
makes  reference  to  its  floating  bee-houses. 
Florence,  Verona,  Mantua,  Milan,  Venice, 
were  next  journeyed  to,  and  Padua,  for  which 
city  ig  also  claimed  the  credit  of  his  medical 
degree.'^  In  Italy,  where  every  peasant  was  a 
musician,  his  flute  had  lost  its  charm,  and  he 
seems  to  have  subsisted,  if  we  again  accept  him 
as  the  prototype  of  George  Primrose,  chiefly  by 
disputation.'     "In  all  the   foreign    universities 

^  It  is  now  known  that  he  did  not  obtain  it  there 
(AihettcBum,  21  July,  1894). 


40  Oliver  Goldsmith 

and  convents,  there  are  upon  certain  days  philo- 
sophical theses  maintained  against  every  adven- 
titious disputant ;  for  which,  if  the  champion 
opposes  with  any  dexterity,  he  can  claim  a  gratu- 
ity in  money,  a  dinner,  and  a  bed  for  one  night."  ^ 
Thus  he  fought  his  way  from  city  to  city  until, 
at  the  end  of  175^,  he  turned  his  steps  home- 
wards. On  the  I st  of  February,  1756,  he  landed 
at  Dover,  "  his  whole  stock  of  cash,"  says  Wil- 
liam Glover,  "amounting  to  no  more  than  a  few 
half-pence."^  His  wanderings  had  occupied 
exactly  one  year." 

1   Vicar  of  Wakefield,  1766,  ii,  31. 

*  Life  prefixed  to  Poems  a7td  Plays,  1777,  p.  iv.  This 
Life  is  based  upon  "  Anecdotes  of  the  late  Dr.  Goldsmith," 
Atmual  Register,  1774,  pp.  29-34,  by  "  G." 


CHAPTER   III 

Prospect  and  retrospect;  first  struggles  on  reaching  England; 
comedian,  apothecary's  journeyman,  poor  physician,  press- 
corrector  to  Richardson;  writes  a  tragedy;  projects  of  East- 
ern exploration;  assistant  at  PecJcham  Academy;  miseries  of 
an  usher ;  Peckham  memories ;  bound  to  Griffiths  the  book- 
seller, April,  1757;  literature  of  all  work;  criticism  of  Gray; 
quarrels  with  Griffiths;  "Memoirs  of  a  Protestant"  pub- 
lished, February,  1758;  returns  to  Peckham;  new  hopes; 
meditating  "Enquiry  into  Polite  Learning;"  letters  to  Mills, 
Bryanton,  Mrs.  Lawder  (Jane  Contarine)  ;  obtains  and  loses 
appointment  as  medical  officer  at  Coromandel ;  rejected  at 
Surgeons'  Hall  as  a  hospital  mate,  December  21,  1758. 

A  T  the  time  of  Goldsmith's  second  arrival  in 
■^^  England,  for,  as  will  be  remembered,  he 
had  already  paid  an  unpremeditated  visit  to 
Newcastle  a  year  earlier,  his  previous  career 
could  certainly  not  be  described  as  a  success. 
If  his  schooldays  had  been  but  moderately  prom- 
ising, his  college  life  might  almost  be  called 
discreditable.  He  had  tried  many  things  and 
failed.  He  had  estranged  his  sole  remaining 
parent ;  he  had  sorely  taxed  the  patience  of  the 
rest  of  his  relations  ;  and  he  had,  latterly,  been 
living  as  a  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 


42  Oliver  Goldsmith 

This  was  his  record  in  the  past.  And  yet,  read 
by  the  light  of  his  subsequent  story,  he  had  un- 
consciously gone  through  a  course  of  training, 
and  accumulated  a  stock  of  experience,  of  which 
little  or  nothing  was  to  be  lost.  He  had  looked 
at  sorrow  close,  and  learned  to  sympathise  with 
poverty ;  he  had  known  men  and  cities  ;  he  had 
studied  character  in  its  undress.  If  he  had  prof- 
ited but  slenderly  by  the  precepts  of  Gaubius 
and  Albinus,  his  "  education  through  the  senses" 
had  been  progressing  as  silently  and  as  surely  as 
the  fame  of  Marcellus.  What  he  had  seen  of 
foreign  countries  was  to  stand  him  in  good  stead 
in  his  first  long  poem;  what  he  had  collected 
concerning  professors  and  academies  he  would 
weave  into  the  "  Enquiry  into  Polite  Learning 
in  Europe  "  ;  what  he  had  observed  in  the  byway 
and  the  crowd  would  supply  him  with  endless 
touches  of  shrewd  and  delicate  discrimination  in 
his  "  Essays"  and  his  "  Citizen  of  the  World." 
And  somehow,  he  had  already,  as  his  letters 
testify,  acquired  that  easy  and  perspicuous  style 
of  writing,  which  comes  to  few  men  as  a  gift. 
Who  shall  say,  then,  that  his  life  had  been  a  fail- 
ure, when,  in  its  assimilative  period,  so  much  had 
been  achieved?  Meanwhile,  he  had  landed  at 
Dover,  and  the  world  was  all  before  him  where 
to  choose. 


A  Memoir  43 

The  close  connection  between  his  works  and 
his  biography,  added  to  the  habit  of  regarding 
the  adventures  of  his  "  Philosophic  Vagabond  " 
as  an  exact  transcript  of  his  own  experiences, 
has  occasionally  led  to  the  including,  in  that 
biography,  of  some  incidents  which  may  have 
no  other  basis  than  his  fictions.  Thus,  either 
from  his  subsequent  account,  in  The  British 
Magazine,  of  the  vicissitudes  of  a  strolling 
player,  or  from  the  theatrical  attempts  of  George 
Primrose  in  the  "  Vicar,"  it  has  been  asserted 
that  his  first  endeavour  at  what  he  somewhere 
calls  "his  sole  ambition,  a  livelihood,"  was  as 
a  low  comedian  in  a  barn  —  an  assertion  which 
has  been  thought  to  receive  some  slender  con- 
firmation from  the  fact  that  he  is  known  to  have 
expressed  a  desire  in  later  life  to  play  the  part 
of  "  Scrub  "  in  Farquhar's  "  Beaux'  Stratagem." 
Another  vaguely  reported  story  represents  him 
as  engaged  for  some  time  as  usher  at  a  provin- 
cial school,  under  a  feigned  name  :  and  that  his 
difficulties,  during  this  period,  were  extreme, 
may  be  gathered  from  the  oft-quoted,  but  per- 
haps humourously-exaggerated,  announcement, 
attributed  to  him  in  his  more  prosperous  days, 
that  he  had  once  lived  "among  the  beggars  in 
Axe-Lane."  In  any  case  he  must  have  been 
sorely  pressed,  and  depressed.    "  I  was  without 


44  Oliver  Goldsmith 

friends,  recommendations,  money,  or  impu- 
dence," he  says  to  his  brother-in-law  Hodson, 
writing  of  this  time;  "and  that  in  a  country 
where  being  born  an  Irishman  was  sufficient  to 
keep  me  unemployed.  Many  in  such  circum- 
stances would  have  had  recourse  to  the  friar's 
cord,  or  the  suicide's  halter.  But,  with  all  my 
follies,  I  had  principle  to  resist  the  one,  and 
resolution  to  combat  the  other.'' ^  His  first 
definite  employment  seems  to  have  been  that  of 
assistant  to  an  apothecary  named  Jacob  on 
Fish  Street  Hill,  who  had  been  attracted  by  his 
chemical  knowledge,  and  pitied  his  forlorn  con- 
dition. While  he  was  acting  in  this  capacity, 
he  heard  that  his  quondam  college  friend,  Dr. 
Sleigh,  already  referred  to  in  chapter  ii.,  was  in 
London,  and  he  accordingly  sought  him  out. 
"  Notwithstanding  it  was  Sunday,"  said  poor 
Goldsmith  to  Cook,  "  and  it  is  to  be  supposed 
in  my  best  clothes.  Sleigh  scarcely  knew  me  — 
such  is  the  tax  the  unfortunate  pay  to  poverty  — 
however,  when  he  did  recollect  me,  I  found  his 
heart  as  warm  as  ever,  and  he  shared  his  purse 
and  friendship  with  me  during  his  continuance 
in  London." 

By  the  kindness  of   Dr.    Sleigh,    and   some 
others  friends,  he  was  freed  from  the  pestle  and 

*  Miscellaneous  Works,  1801,  i,  41. 


A  Memoir  45 

mortar,  and  established  himself  as  "  a  physician 
in   a   humble  way "  in    Bankside,  Southwark, 
where,    if  anywhere,  he   must  have   made   the 
acquaintance  of  that  worshipful  Madame  Blaize, 
whom,  three  years  later,  he  celebrated   in  T\u 
Bee.     "  Kent  Street,"  he  sings  — 
"  well  may  say 
That  had  she  lived  a  twelvemonth  more 
She  had  not  died  to-day  ; " 

and  Kent  Street,  then  sacred  to  beggars  and 
broom  men,  traverses  Southwark.^  His  old 
schoolmate,  Beatty,  who  saw  him  about  this 
time,  described  him  as  conventionally  costumed 
in  tarnished  green  and  gold,  but  with  a  "  shirt 
and  neckcloth  which  appeared  to  have  been 
worn  at  least  a  fortnight.  He  said  he  was  prac- 
tising physic,  and  doing  very  well."^  Another 
story,  told  or  repeated  by  Reynolds,  also  relates 
to  the  —  in  Goldsmith's  life  —  always  important 
item  of  attire.  "  In  conformity  to  the  prevail- 
ing garb  of  the  day  for  physicians,"  says  Prior, 
"  Goldsmith,  unable  probably  to  obtain  a  new, 
had  procured  a  second-hand,  velvet  coat ;  but 
either  from  being  deceived  in  the  bargain  or  by 
subsequent  accident,  a  considerable  breach  in 
the  left  breast  was  obliged  to  be  repaired  by 

^  It  is  now  called  Tabard  Street 
'■*  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  215. 


46  Oliver  Goldsmith 

the  introduction  of  a  new  piece.  This  had  not 
been  so  neatly  done,  as  not  to  be  apparent  to 
the  close  observation  of  his  acquaintance,  and 
such  persons  as  he  visited  in  the  capacity  of 
medical  attendant :  willing,  therefore,  to  con- 
ceal what  is  considered  too  obvious  a  symp- 
tom of  poverty,  he  was  accustomed  to  place 
his  hat  over  the  patch,  and  retain  it  there 
carefully  during  the  visit;  but  this  constant  posi- 
tion becoming  noticed,  and  the  cause  being 
soon  known,  occasioned  no  little  merriment  at 
his  expense."  ^ 

His  statement  to  Beatty,  quoted  above,  that 
he  was  prospering,  was,  in  all  probability,  what 
he  himself  would  have  described  as  "  a  bounce." 
His  patients  were  of  the  poorest  class,  and  the 
neighbourhood  in  which  he  "practised  physic" 
one  of  the  least  opulent  in  London.  Hence  he 
soon  drifted  into  new  employment.  Rumour 
affirms  that,  through  one  of  his  humble  patients, 
a  working  printer,  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
the  author  of  "  Clarissa,"  Samuel  Richardson, 
whose  shop  was  in  Salisbary  Court,  and  that  he 
acted  for  him  as  corrector  to  the  press.  This 
quasi-literary  occupation  must  have  revived  or 
stimulated  his  leaning  to  authorship  ;  for  when, 
about  this  time,  he  called  upon  another  Edin- 
^  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  215-6. 


A  Memoir  47 

burgh  acquaintance,  he  had  exchanged  his  tar- 
nished gold  and  green  for  "  a  rusty  full-trimmed 
black  suit,"  the  pockets  of  which  were  crammed 
with  papers,  suggesting  "  the  poet  in  Garrick's 
farce  of  '  Lethe.'"  To  complete  the  resem- 
blance, he  speedily  produced  a  tragedy,  which 
he  insisted  upon  reading,  hastily  blotting  out 
everything  to  which  his  listener  offered  the 
faintest  objection.  At  last  he  let  out  that  he 
had  already  submitted  it  to  Richardson,  upon 
which  his  friend,  doubtful  of  his  own  critical 
abilities,  and  alarmed  for  the  possible  fate  of  a 
masterpiece,  "  peremptorily  declined  offering 
another  criticism  upon  the  performance,"  the 
very  name  and  subject  of  which  have  perished, 
like  those  of  the  comedy  Steele  burned  at 
Oxford  in  deference  to  the  objections  of  Mr. 
Parker.  As  usual,  Goldsmith  was  brimful  of 
projects,  one  of  which  was  to  start  there  and 
then  for  the  East  in  order  to  decipher  the  in- 
scriptions on  the  Wady  Mekatteb  and  the 
Djebal  Serbal.  For  this  a  salary  of  ;^]oo  per 
annum  had  been  left  by  an  enthusiast  ;  and 
nothing  was  needful  but  the  knowledge  of 
Arabic  —  a  mere  "unconsidered  trifle"  that 
could  easily  be  picked   up  on   the  road. 

The   famous     "  Written     Mountains,"    how- 
'  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  212-3. 


48  Oliver  Goldsmith 

ever,  were  not  to  be  his  destination.  Another 
of  his  old  Edinburgh  class-fellows  —  and  it  is 
noteworthy  that  there  were  so  many  who  seem 
to  have  remembered  and  befriended  him  —  was 
the  son  of  Dr.  Milner,  a  Presbysterian  minister 
and  schoolmaster  at  Peckham.  Dr.  Milner 
was  in  failing  health,  and  his  son  suggested  that 
Goldsmith  should,  for  the  time,  act  as  his 
assistant.  Whether  the  sarcastic  comments 
upon  the  miseries  of  an  usher's  position,  to 
which  he  gives  vent  in  The  Bee,  the  "  Vicar," 
and  elsewhere,  are  referable  to  this  period, 
or  to  some  less  fortunate  experiences,  is  still 
unchronicled.  But  there  is  certainly  a  touch 
of  something  more  than  a  merely  dramatic 
utterance  in  the  phrases  of  George  Primrose  : 
*'  I  have  been  an  usher  at  a  boarding-school 
myself  ;  and  may  I  die  by  an  anodyne  necklace,  ^ 
but  I  had  rather  be  an  under  turnkey  in  New- 
gate. I  was  up  early  and  late  :  I  was  brow- 
beat by  the  master,  hated  for  my  ugly  face  by 
the  mistress,  worried  by  the  boys  within,  and 
never  permitted  to  stir  out  to  meet  civility 
abroad."^     "Every   trick,"    he    says  again    in 

1  That  is,  by  a  halter,  for  which,  by  extension,  the 
name  of  the  old  quack  remedy  for  the  pains  of  teething 
was  employed. 

2  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  1766,  ii,  3-4. 


A  Memoir  49 

No.  vi.  of  Thz  Bee,  "  is  played  upon  the  usher  ; 
the  oddity  of  his  manners,  his  dress,  or  his  lan- 
guage, are  [is]  a  fund  of  eternal  ridicule  ;  the 
master  himself  now  and  then  cannot  avoid  join- 
ing in  the  laugh,  and  the  poor  wretch,  eternally 
resenting  this  ill-usage,  seems  to  live  in  a  state 
of  war  with  all  the  family."  At  other  times, 
says  the  "  Percy  Memoir,"  he  would  describe 
the  malodorous  privileges  of  sleeping  in  the 
same  bed  with  the  French  teacher,  who  spends 
"  every  night  an  hour  perhaps  in  papering  and 
filleting  his  hair,  and  stinks  worse  than  a  carrion, 
with  his  rancid  pomatums,  when  he  lays  his  head 
beside  him  on  his  bolster."  ^  But  if  these  indig- 
nities lingered  in  his  mind,  (and  the  passages  in 
The  Bee  must  have  been  written  very  shortly 
after  his  Peckham  experiences),  he  can  have 
discovered  little  of  his  annoyance  to  those  about 
him,  who  seem  to  have  recollected  him  chiefly  by 
his  improvidence,  — a  characteristic  so  manifest 
tliat  Mrs.  Milner  is  said  to  have  suggested  that 
she  should  take  care  of  his  money  like  that 
of  the  young  gentlemen,  —  his  good-nature,  his 
cheerfulness,  his  playing  upon  the  flute  to  his 
pupils,  and  his  practical  jokes  upon  William  the 
foot-boy.  Such,  at  all  events,  is  the  impression 
left  by  the  reminiscences  of  the  last  of  the  ten 
1  Miscellaiteoiis  IVorhs,  iSoi,  i,  39. 
4 


50  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Miss  Milners  who  survived  until  the  close  of 
the  century  to  enlighten  curious  inquirers  con- 
cerning her  father's  famous  assistant.  The 
limits  of  this  volume  do  not  permit  the  reproduc- 
tion of  Goldsmith's  tricks  upon  the  unsuspecting 
William,  who  must  certainly  have  been  a  gull  of 
the  first  order ;  but  two  incidents  of  these 
days  may  be  recorded,  because  they  illustrate 
the  permanent  side  of  Goldsmith's  nature. 
According  to  tradition,  it  occurred  to  Miss 
Hester  Milner  who,  it  must  be  remembered, 
was  the  daughter  of  a  minister,  to  inquire  what 
particular  commentator  on  the  Scriptures  he 
would  recommend,  upon  which  he  replied,  after 
a  pause,  and  with  much  earnestness,  that  in  his 
belief  the  best  commentator  was  common-sense. 
The  other  anecdote,  which  Prior  derived  from 
the  son  of  one  of  the  boys  who  was  present,  is 
allied  to  those  earlier  ones  which  exhibit  his  char- 
acter in  its  more  vulnerable  aspect.  Playing  the 
flute  one  day  to  his  pupils,  he  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment to  expatiate  upon  the  advantages  of  music 
as  a  gentlemanlike  acquirement.  "  A  pert  boy, 
looking  at  his  situation  and  personal  disadvan- 
tages with  something  of  contempt,  rudely  replied 
to  the  effect  that  he  surely  could  not  consider 
himself  a  gentleman  ;  an  offence  which,  though 
followed  by  instant  chastisement,  disconcerted 


A  Memoir  51 

and  pained  him  extremely."  ^  It  was  probably 
owing  to  slights  of  this  kind  that,  although  he 
left  so  satisfactory  an  impression  behind  him,  he 
always  looked  back  to  the  days  of  this  servitude 
with  unusual  bitterness.  He  would  talk  freely 
of  his  distresses  and  difficulties,  Cook  tells  us, 
but  he  always  carefully  avoided  the  "  little  story 
of  Peckham  school." 

His  stay  there,  however,  can  have  been  but 
brief.  Miss  Milner,  indeed,  talked  of  a  three 
years'  residence  ;  but,  if  Forster  be  right  in  fix- 
ing his  entry  upon  his  duties  at  "  about  the 
beginning  of  1757,"  it  could  scarcely  have  ex- 
ceeded three  months,  as  it  is  possible  to  fix 
definitely  the  termination  of  the  engagement. 
Dr.  Milner  was  a  dabbler  in  literature,  and  a 
contributor  to  The  Monthly  Review^  which,  a 
few  years  earlier,  had  been  established  by 
Griffiths  the  bookseller.  Griffiths  was  thus  an 
occasional  visitor  at  Peckham,  and,  struck  by 
some  remark  on  the  part  of  the  usher,  he  called 
him  aside  and  inquired  whether  he  could  furnish 
*' a  few  specimens  of  criticism."  These,  when 
prepared,  were  so  satisfactory,  that  an  agree- 
ment was  entered  into  in  April  by  which  Gold- 
smith was  to  be  released  from  Peckham,  to 
have  a  fixed  salary,  —  qualified  indifferently  by 
1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  siS-g. 


52  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Percy  as  "  handsome,"  by  Prior  as  "  adequate," 
and  by  Forster  as  "small,"  —  and  to  prepare 
copy-of-all-work  for  his  master's  periodical. 

Griffiths'  shop  was  in  Paternoster  Row  — 
"  at  the  Sign  of  the  Dunciad,"  Most  of  the 
mere  paste-and-scissors  work  of  the  magazine 
was  done  by  the  bookseller  himself,  the  criti- 
cisms being  supplied  by  a  staff  which  included 
several  contemporary  writers  of  minor  rank. 
Ruffhead,  who  wrote  a  life  of  Pope,  Kippis,  of 
the  "  Biographia  Britannica,"  James  Grainger, 
afterwards  the  poet  of  "  The  Sugar  Cane,"  and 
Langhorne,  one  of  the  translators  of  Plutarch's 
"  Lives,"  were  amongst  these,  to  whose  number 
Goldsmith  must  now  be  added.  In  Griffiths' 
copy  of  the  review  for  this  period,  which  once 
belonged  to  Richard  Heber,  his  new  assistant's 
articles  were  marked,  so  that  it  is  possible  to 
form  some  idea  of  the  very  miscellaneous  nature 
of  his  duties.  He  reviewed  the  "■  Mythology 
and  Poetry  of  the  Celtes,"  by  Mallet  of 
Copenhagen  ;  he  reviewed  Home's"  Douglas  " 
and  Burke  "  On  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful  ;  " 
he  reviewed  the  new  "  History  of  England" 
by  Smollett  and  tea-hating  old  Jonas  Hanway's 
"  Eight  Days'  Journey  from  Portsmouth 
to  Kingston-upon-Thames."  "  Letters  from  an 
Armenian  in  Ireland,  to  his  Friends  at  Trebi- 


A  Memoir  ^t, 

sonde"  —  concerning  which  it  is  quite  compe- 
tent for  any  one  to  assert  that  they  suggested  the 
subsequent  "  Citizen  of  the  World,"  were  it  not 
that  such  collections  appear  to  have  been  in  the 
air  at  the  time  —  a  translation  of  Cardinal  Poli- 
gnac's  "Anti-Lucretius,"  Wilkie's  "  Epigoniad," 
and  the  "  Memoirs  of  Madame  de  Maintenon," 
are  also  among  the  heterogeneous  list.  One  of 
the  last  of  his  efforts  for  the  review  was  a  notice 
of  Gray's  "  Odes,"  which  Dodsley  had  just 
published  in  a  shilling  quarto.  It  is  interesting, 
because  it  shows  how,  in  his  long  probation,  his 
taste  had  gradually  been  formed.  He  admitted 
Gray's  genius  ;  he  admitted  his  exquisite  verbal 
felicities  ;  but  he  regretted  his  remoteness, 
and  his  want  of  emotion,  and  he  gave  him  the 
advice  of  Isocrates  to  his  scholars,  — to  "  study 
the  people."  Counsel  from  the  back-parlour  of 
the  "Dunciad"  to  the  cloistered  precinct  of 
Pembroke  College  was  not  likely  to  be  much 
regarded,  even  if  it  reached  that  sanctuary  of 
culture  ;  but  the  fact  illustrates  the  difference 
between  Gray  and  the  writer  of  whom  he  was 
afterwards  to  say,  "This  man  is  a  poet." 

Goldsmith's  criticism  of  Gray  appeared  in 
The  Monthly  Review  for  September,  17^7,  and 
at  this  point  his  labours  for  Griffiths  were  inter- 
rupted.   The  reasons  for  this  are  obscure  ;  but 


54  Oliver  Goldsmith 

incompatibility  of  temper  may  probably  stand  for 
all  of  them.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  Goldsmith's 
ways  were  too  desultory  and  uncertain  to  suit 
an  employer  with  confirmed  business  habits, 
and  a  low  standard  of  literary  excellence  ;  while 
Goldsmith,  on  his  side,  complained  that  the 
bookseller  and  his  wife  (who  assisted  him)  not 
only  denied  him  the  requisite  comforts,  but 
edited  and  manipulated  his  articles,  —  always 
a  thing  intolerable  to  the  possessor  of  an  in- 
dividual style.  Style,  however,  was  little  to 
honest  Griffiths,  who  doubtless  thought,  not 
without  some  reason,  that  he  knew  better  what 
he  wanted  than  the  unknown  Peckham  usher 
whom  he  had  introduced  into  the  world  of  let- 
ters. So  Griffiths  and  his  assistant  dissolved 
their  compact,  the  latter  to  live  for  the  next  few 
months,  no  one  quite  knows  how,  by  miscel- 
laneous practice  of  the  pen.^  His  brother 
Charles,  attracted  from  Ireland  by  some  romanc- 
ing phrases  in  one  of  his  elder's  letters  about 
his  illustrious  friends,  visited  him  unexpectedly 
at  the  end  of   17 57.     To  his    disappointment, 

1  Mr.  J.  W.  M.  Gibbs  (Goldsmith's  "Works,"  Bell's 
edition,  vol.  v.)  has  discovered  that  some  parts  of  "  A  His- 
tory of  the  Seven  Years'  War,"  hitherto  supposed  to  have 
been  written  in  1761,  were  published  in  The  Literacy 
Magazine,  1757-8. 


A  Memoir  55 

he  found  him  in  a  squalid  garret  near  Salisbury 
Square,  and  promptly  recognising  the  improba- 
bility of  help  in  this  direction,  vanished  as 
suddenly  as  he  came. 

But  if  there  is  uncertainty  as  to  Goldsmith's 
general  occupations  at  this  time,  there  is  one 
work  upon  which,  either  during  his  bondage  in 
Paternoster  Row,  or  immediately  after,  he  must 
have  been  engaged.  This  was  a  translation  of 
the  remarkable  Memoirs  of  Jean  Marteilhe  of 
Bergerac,  which  Griffiths  and  Dilly  published 
in  February,  1758,  under  the  title  of  "  Memoirs 
of  a  Protestant  Condemned  to  the  Galleys  of 
France,  for  His  Religion."  The  book,  it  is 
true,  "  from  prudential  motives  "  now  no  longer 
very  intelligible,  bears  the  name  of  James 
Willington,  an  old  class-fellow  of  Goldsmith  at 
Trinity  College.  But  Griffiths,  according  to 
Prior,  acknowledged  that  the  translator  was 
Goldsmith  himself.^  Indeed,  it  is  not  impos- 
sible that  Goldsmith  may  have  seen  Marteilhe, 
who  died  at  Cuylenberg  as  late  as  1777,  and, 
who,  the  preface  expressly  says,  was,  at  the 
time  of  writing,  "  known  to  numbers,  not  only 
in    Holland   but  London."      Of  late  years  the 

1  This  is  now  established.  See  "  Marteilhe's  '  Me- 
moirs,'" in  the  Miscellanies  of  the  present  author,  1898, 
pp.  306-25. 


S6  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Religious  Tract  Society  has  issued  a  some- 
what exacter  version  of  this  moving  record, 
surely  one  of  the  most  forcible  pictures  of  the 
miseries  ensuing  upon  the  Revocation  of  the 
Edict  of  Nantes  that  has  ever  been  penned, 
and  not  wholly  undeserving  the  praise  accorded 
to  it  by  Michelet  of  seeming  to  have  been 
'^written  as  if  between  earth  and  heaven." 
Nor,  despite  certain  apologetic  passages  in  the 
translator's  preface,  can  it  be  held  to  be  seri- 
ously deficient  in  romantic  interest.  The  epi- 
sode of  Goujon,  the  young  cadet  of  the  regiment 
of  Aubesson,  and  the  disastrous  development 
of  his  love-story,  might  furnish  ample  material 
for  one  of  Dumas'  most  stirring  chapters. 

By  the  time,  however,  that  the  '^Memoirs 
of  a  Protestant"  had  appeared.  Goldsmith  had 
deserted  his  garret  near  Salisbury  Square,  and 
gone  back  to  help  Dr.  Milner  at  Peckham. 
Here,  at  least,  he  found  a  home,  added  to 
which,  his  old  master  had  promised  to  en- 
deavour to  procure  for  him  a  medical  appoint- 
ment in  India.  With  a  view  to  the  necessary 
outfit,  he  seems  to  have  set  about  what  was  to 
be  his  first  original  work,  and  his  letters  to  his 
friends  in  Ireland,  of  which  several  written  at 
this  time  were  printed  by  Prior  and  Percy, 
are  plainly  prompted  by  the   desire  to  obtain 


A  Memoir  57 

subscribers.  He  is  going  to  publish  a  book  in 
London,  he  says  to  Edward  Mills,  "  entitled 
An  Essay  on  the  Present  State  df  Taste  and 
Literature  in  Europe,"  and  he  goes  on  to  beg 
him  to  circulate  proposals  for  the  same.  To 
like  effect  he  writes  to  Robert  Bryanton,  and 
to  Jane  Contarine,  now  Mrs.  Lawder.  These 
letters  are  excellent  specimens  of  his  epistolary 
gift.  All  written  within  a  few  days  of  each 
other,  they  are  skilfully  discriminate  in  their 
variation  of  style.  To  Mills,  who,  by  the  way, 
never  answered  his  appeal,  he  is  most  formal ; 
he  is  addressing  the  rich  relation,  the  well-to-do 
"  squireen,"  who  had  patronised  him  at  college. 
"I  have  often,"  he  says,  "let  my  fancy  loose 
when  you  were  the  subject,  and  have  imagined 
you  gracing  the  bench,  or  thundering  at  the 
bar;  while  I  have  taken  no  small  pride  to  myself, 
and  whispered  all  that  I  could  come  near,  that 
this  was  my  cousin.  Instead  of  this,  it  seems 
you  are  contented  to  be  merely  an  happy  man ; 
to  be  esteemed  only  by  your  acquaintance  —  to 
cultivate  your  paternal  acres  —  to  take  unmo- 
lested a  nap  under  one  of  your  own  hawthorns, 
or  in  Mrs.  Mills'  bed-chamber,  which,  even  a 
poet  must  confess,  is  rather  the  most  [more] 
comfortable  place  of  the  two."^  Already,  it 
1  Miscellaiicotis  Works,  1801,  i,  50-1. 


58  Oliver  Goldsmith 

will  be  seen,  he  speaks  of  himself  as  a  "  poet." 
To  Bryanton  he  writes  with  the  freedom  of  an 
ancient  boon  companion  at  the  Three  Pigeons, 
runs  over  their  old  experiences,  deplores  their 
enforced  separation,  and  draws  a  half-humourous, 
half-bitter  picture  of  his  own  neglected  merits. 
"  There  will  come  a  day,"  he  says,  "  no  doubt 
it  will —  I  beg  you  may  live  a  couple  of  hundred 
years  longer  only  to  see  the  day  —  when  the 
Scaligers  and  Daciers  will  vindicate  my  charac- 
ter, give  learned  editions  of  my  labours,  and 
bless  the  times  with  copious  comments  on  the 
text.  You  shall  see  how  they  will  fish  up  the 
heavy  scoundrels  who  disregard  me  now,  or  will 
then  offer  to  cavil  at  my  productions.  How 
will  they  bewail  the  time  that  suffered  so  much 
genius  to  be  neglected.  If  ever  my  works  find 
their  way  to  Tartary  or  China,  I  know  the  conse- 
quence. Suppose  one  of  your  Chinese  Owano- 
witzers  instructing  one  of  your  Tartarian 
Chianobacchi  —  you  see  I  use  Chinese  names  to 
show  my  own  erudition,  as  I  shall  soon  make  our 
Chinese  talk  like  an  Englishman  to  show  his. 
This  may  be  the  subject  of  the  lecture :  — 

"  '  Oliver  Goldsmith  flourished  in  the 
eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries.  He  lived 
to  be  an  hundred  and  three  years  old,  [and  in 


A  Memoir  59 

that]  age  may  justly  be  styled  the  sun  of  [litera- 
ture] and  the  Confucius  of  Europe.  [Many  of 
his  earlier  writings  to  the  regret  of  the]  learned 
world  were  anonymous,  and  have  probably  been 
lost,  because  united  with  those  of  others.  The 
first  avowed  piece  the  world  has  of  his  is  en- 
titled an  "  Essay  on  the  Present  State  of  Taste 
and  Literature  in  Europe,"  —  a  work  well  worth 
its  weight  in  diamonds.  In  this  he  profoundly 
explains  what  learning  is,  and  what  learning 
is  not.  In  this  he  proves  that  blockheads  are 
not  men  of  wit,  and  yet  that  men  of  wit  are 
actually  blockheads.'" 

And  then  —  not  "to  tire  his  Chinese  Philoso- 
pher," of  whom,  two  or  three  years  hence,  we 
shall  hear  more  in  The,  Public  Ledger — he 
"  lights  down,  as  the  boys  say,  to  see  himself  on 
horse-back,"  and  where  is  he  ?  "  Here  in  a 
garret  writing  for  bread,  and  expecting  to  be 
dunned  for  a  milk-score."-' 

The  letter  to  Mrs  Lawder  —  Cousin  Con.  of 
the  harpsichords  —  is  in  a  different  strain  from 
the  two  others.  Half  playful,  half  respectful,  it 
is  at  the  same  time  more  personal  and  confiden- 

^  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  266-7.  The  words  between 
square  brackets  were  supplied  by  Prior,  the  original 
manuscript  being,  in  these  places,  worn  by  age. 


6o  Oliver  Goldsmith 

tial.  After  explaining  his  long  silence  by  his 
fears  that  his  letters  might  be  attributed  to 
wrong  motives  —  that  is  to  say,  to  petitions  for 
money  —  he  goes  on  :  — 

"  Those  who  know  me  at  all,  know  that  I 
have  always  been  actuated  by  different  principles 
from  the  rest  of  Mankind,  and  while  none 
regarded  the  interests  of  his  friends  more,  no 
man  on  earth  regarded  his  own  less.  I  have 
often  affected  bluntness  to  avoid  the  imputation 
of  flattery,  have  frequently  seem'd  to  overlook 
those  merits,  too  obvious  to  escape  notice,  and 
pretended  disregard  to  those  instances  of  good 
nature  and  good  sense  which  I  could  not  fail 
tacitly  to  applaud  ;  and  all  this  lest  I  should  be 
rank'd  among  the  grinning  tribe  who  say  very 
true  to  all  that  is  said,  who  fill  a  vacant  chair  at  a 
tea  table  whose  narrow  souls  never  moved  in  a 
wider  circle  than  the  circumference  of  a  guinea, 
and  who  had  rather  be  reckoning  the  money  in 
your  pocket  than  the  virtues  of  your  breast ;  all 
this,  I  say,  I  have  done  and  a  thousand  other 
very  silly  tho'  very  disinterested  things  in  my 
time,  and  for  all  which  no  soul  cares  a  farthing 
about  me.  .  .  .  Madam,  is  it  to  be  wondered 
that  he  should  once  in  his  life  forget  you  who 
has  been  all  his  life  forgetting  himself.'' 


A  Memoir  6i 

"  However  it  is  probable  you  may  one  of 
these  days  see  me  turn'd  into  a  perfect  Hunks 
and  as  dark  and  intricate  as  a  mouse-hole.  I 
have  already  given  my  Lanlady  orders  for  an 
entire  reform  in  the  state  of  my  finances ;  I 
declaim  against  hot  suppers,  drink  less  sugar  in 
my  tea,  and  cheek  my  grate  with  brick-bats. 
Instead  of  hanging  my  room  with  pictures  I  in- 
tend to  adorn  it  with  maxims  of  frugality,  these 
will  make  pretty  furniture  enough,  and  won't  be 
a  bit  too  expensive  ;  for  I  shall  draw  them  all 
out  with  my  own  hands  and  my  lanlady's 
daughter  shall  frame  them  with  the  parings  of 
my  black  waistcoat  ;  Each  maxim  is  to  be  in- 
scrib'd  on  a  sheet  of  clean  paper  and  wrote  with 
my  best  pen,  of  which  the  following  will  serve 
as  a  specimen.  '  Look  Sharp.  Mind  the  mean 
chance.  Money  is  money  now.  If  you  have  a 
thousand  pounds  you  can  put  your  hands  by 
your  sides  and  say  you  are  worth  a  thousand 
pounds  every  day  of  the  year.  Take  a  farthing 
from  an  hundred  pound  and  it  will  be  an  hun- 
dred pound  no  longer.'  Thus  which  way  so  ever 
I  turn  my  eyes  they  are  sure  to  meet  one  of 
those  friendly  Monitors,  and  as  we  are  told  of 
an  Actor  ^  who  hung  his  room  round  with  look- 

^  /.  e.,  Thomas  Sheridan,  the  father  of  the  author  of 
"  The  School  for  Scandal." 


62  Oliver  Goldsmith 

ing-glasses  to  correct  the  defects  of  his  person, 
my  appartment  shall  be  furnishd  in  a  peculiar 
manner  to  correct  the  errors  of  my  mind. 

"Faith,  Madam,  I  heartily  wish  to  be  rich, 
if  it  were  only  for  this  reason,  to  say  without  a 
blush  how  much  I  esteem  you,  but  alass  I  have 
many  a  fatigue  to  encounter  before  that  happy 
time  comes  ;  when  your  poor  old  simple  friend 
may  again  give  a  loose  to  the  luxuriance  of  his 
nature,  sitting  by  Kilmore  fireside  recount  the 
various  adventures  of  an  hard  fought  life,  laugh 
over  the  follies  of  the  day,  join  his  flute  to  your 
harpsicord  and  forget  that  ever  he  starv'd  in 
those  streets  where  Butler  and  Otway  starv'd 
before  him."  ^ 

And  so,  with  a  pathetic  reference  to  his  kind 
Uncle  Contarine,  now  lapsed  into  "second 
childishness  and  mere  oblivion,"  he  winds  into 
the  business  of  his  letter  —  the  solicitation  of 
subscriptions  for  the  forthcoming  book. 

Three  months  after  the  date  of  this  epistle  the 
long-desired  appointment  has  come,  and  he 
describes  it  to  his  brother-in-law  Hodson.  He 
Is  going  in  quality  of  physician  and  surgeon  to  a 
factory  on    the    Coast   of    Coromandel.     The 

1  This  extract  is  printed  textually  from  a.  facsimile  of 
the  original  letter  in  Griffin's  "  Works  of  Oliver  Gold- 
smith," 1858. 


A  Memoir  63 

Company  have  signed  the  warrant,  which  has 
already  cost  ;^io,  and  there  will  be  other 
heavy  expenses  for  passage  and  outfit.  The 
salary  of  ^100,  it  is  true,  is  only  trifling.  Still 
the  practice  of  the  place  (if  he  is  rightly  in- 
formed), "generally  amounts  to  not  less  than 
;^i,ooo  per  annum,  for  which  the  appointed 
physician  has  an  exclusive  privilege.'"  An  East 
India  exile,  however,  was  not  to  be  his  fate. 
Why  the  project,  with  its  executed  warrant,  and 
boundless  potentialities,  came  to  nothing,  his 
biographers  have  failed  to  discover,  nor  did  he 
himself  ever  reveal  the  reason.  But  in  the 
absence  of  information  upon  this  point,  there  is 
definite  evidence  upon  another.  In  December 
of  the  same  year,  i7')8,  he  presented  himself  at 
Surgeons'  Hall  to  be  examined  for  the  humble 
office  of  hospital  mate.  The  curt  official  record 
in  the  College  books,  first  made  public  by  Prior,  ^ 
runs  as  follows:  — 

*'  James     Bernard,     mate     to    an    hospital. 

Oliver  Goldsmith,    found    not   qualified     for 

ditto." 

1  Prior's  Life,  1S37,  i,  282. 


CHAPTER    IV 

Pen-portrait  of  Goldsmith  in  1759 ;  No.  12,  Green  Arbour  Court, 
Old  Bailey;  difficulties  with  Griffiths;  writing  "  Memoirs  of 
Voltaire;"  letter  to  Henry  Goldsmith,  February,  1759;  visit 
from  Dr.  Percy,  iVIarch;  "Enquiry  into  Polite  Learning" 
published,  April  2;  account  of  that  book;  its  reception  ;  con- 
tributions to  The  Busy  Body,  and  The  Lady''  s  Magazine ; 
The  Bee,  October  to  November;  its  reference  to  Johnson; 
mmor  verse. 

T)Y  this  date  Goldsmith  had  passed  that  crit- 
"*^  ical  time  of  life,  after  which,  according  to 
a  depressing  French  axiom,  whose  falsity  he  was 
to  demonstrate,  no  man  that  has  hitherto  failed 
can  hope  to  succeed.  His  thirtieth  birthday  had 
gone  by.  In  a  letter  written  not  many  weeks 
after  the  disaster  which  closed  the  foregoing 
chapter,  he  gives  a  description  of  his  appear- 
ance at  the  beginning  of  17=19.  "Though  I 
never  had  a  day's  sickness  since  I  saw  you, 
yet  I  am  not  that  strong  active  man  you  once 
knew  me.  You  scarcely  can  conceive  how 
much  eight  years  of  disappointment,  anguish, 
and  study  have  worn  me  down.  .  .  .  Imagine 
to  yourself  a  pale  melancholy  visage,  with  two 


A  Metnoir  65 

great  wrinkles  between  the  eye-brows,  with  an 
eye  disgustingly  severe,  and  a  big  wig;  and 
you  may  have  a  perfect  picture  of  my  present 
appearance.  ...  I  have  passed  my  days  among 
a  parcel  of  cool  designing  beings,  and  have  con- 
tracted all  their  suspicious  manner  in  my  own 
behaviour.  I  should  actually  be  as  unfit  for  the 
society  of  my  friends  at  home,  as  I  detest  that 
which  I  am  obliged  to  partake  of  here.  ...  I 
can  neither  laugh  nor  drink,  have  contracted 
an  hesitating  disagreeable  manner  of  speaking, 
and  a  visage  that  looks  ill-nature  itself;  in  short, 
I  have  thought  myself  into  a  settled  melancholy, 
and  an  utter  disgust  of  all  that  life  brings  with 
it."^  That  this  picture  is  strongly  coloured 
by  the  depression  of  the  moment  is  manifest. 
"  Never,"  says  Percy,  commenting  upon  part 
of  it,  "  was  a  character  so  unsuspicious  and  so 
unguarded  as  the  writer's.'"  -  But  the  life  he 
had  led  was  not  calculated  to  soften  his  manners 
or  modify  his  physical  disadvantages. 

About  the  end  of  1758,  —  and  probably,  as 
Mr.  Forster  conjectures,  with  part  of  the  money 
he  had  received  for  some  articles  in  The  Critical 
Review  of  Griffiths'  rival,  Hamilton,  —  Gold- 
smith   had    moved    from    his    Salisbury    Square 

1  Miscella7ieous  Works,  iSot,  i,  54-5. 

2  lb.,  p.  84,  note. 

5 


66  Oliver  Goldsmith 

garret  into  his  now  historic  lodgings  in  Green 
Arbour  Court.  Green  Arbour  Court  was  a 
tiny  square,  which  extended  from  the  upper  end 
of  the  Old  Bailey  into  Sea-coal  Lane,  and  was 
approached  on  that  side  by  a  steep  flight  of 
stone  stairs  (of  which  Ned  Ward  has  chronicled 
the  dangers)  called  Breakneck  Steps.  When 
Washington  Irving  visited  it,  before  its  demo- 
lition, he  described  it  as  a  region  of  washer- 
women, consisting  of  "tall  and  miserable  houses, 
the  very  intestines  of  which  seemed  turned  in- 
side out,  to  judge  from  the  old  garments  and 
frippery  that  fluttered  from  every  window."  ^ 
In  The  European  Magazine  for  January,  1803, 
the  reader  may  see  a  contemporary  print  of  the 
place,  still  to  be  identified  on  ancient  maps  of 
London.  Goldsmith's  room  was  on  the  first 
floor  at  No.  12;  and  here,  solaced  by  the  hu- 
mours of  a  friendly  watchmaker,  or  recreating 
the  ragged  infantry  of  the  neighbourhood  with 
his  flute,  working  busily  in  the  daytime,  and 
creeping  out  stealthily  at  nightfall,  he  made  his 
home  from  17)8  until  the  end  of  1760. 

The  first  months  of  his  residence  were  signal- 
ised by  one  of  those  untoward  incidents,  which 
are  always  a  dif!iculty  to  the  hero-worshipping 
biographer.     In  order  to  make  a  decent  appear- 

1  Oliver  Goldsmith;  a  Biography,  1844,  pp.  11 5-6. 


A  Memoir  67 

ance  before  the  Court  of  Examiners  at  Surgeons' 
Hall,  he  had  applied  to  Griffiths  to  become  se- 
curity with  a  tailor  for  a  suit  of  clothes,  and, 
upon  his  promising  to  write  four  articles  for 
Thz  Monthly  Review,  Griffiths  had  consented. 
The  reviews  had  been  written,  and  the  exam- 
ination had  been  undergone,  with  the  result 
already  recorded,  when  Goldsmith's  landlord  at 
Green  Arbour  Court  was  suddenly  arrested  for 
debt.  To  comfort  his  inconsolable  wife.  Gold- 
smith pledged  the  clothes.  A  few  days  later, 
under  further  pressure,  the  books  he  had  re- 
viewed were  transfered  to  a  friend  as  security 
for  a  small  loan;  and  by  ill  luck,  almost  imme- 
diately afterwards,  the  irate  Griffiths  demanded 
restitution.  Thereupon  ensued  a  bitter  and 
humiliating  correspondence,  the  closing  letter 
in  which  was  printed  by  Mr.  Forster  from  the 
original  in  his  possession.  It  is  a  passionate 
outbreak  on  Goldsmith's  part,  in  which  he 
almost  implores  the  bookseller  to  send  him  to 
prison.  He  has  told  him  again  and  again,  he 
can  pay  him  nothing;  but  he  will  be  punctual  to 
any  arrangement  made.  He  is  not  a  sharper  (as 
Griffiths  had  evidently  called  him)  ;  had  he  been 
so,  had  he  been  possessed  of  less  good  nature 
and  native  generosity,  he  might  surely  now  have 
been  in  better  circumstances.     ''  I  am  guilty,  I 


68  Oliver  Goldsmith 

own,"  he  says,  "  of  meannesses  which  poverty 
unavoidably  brings  with  it,  my  reflections  are 
filled  with  repentance  for  my  imprudence,  but 
not  with  any  remorse  for  being  a  villain."  The 
volumes  reviewed,  which  are  merely  in  the  cus- 
tody of  a  friend,  shall  be  returned  in  a  month. 
"  At  least  spare  invective  'till  my  book  with  Mr. 
Dodsley  shall  be  published,  and  then  perhaps 
you  may  see  the  bright  side  of  a  mind  when  my 
professions  shall  not  appear  the  dictates  of 
necessity  but  of  choice."  Thus,  without  let  or 
break,  in  a  hand  trembling  with  agitation  and 
wounded  pride,  the  words  hurry  on  to  the  post- 
script, "  I  shall  expect  impatiently  the  result  of 
your  resolutions."^  The  result  seems  to  have 
been  that  Griffiths  refrained  from  further  pro- 
ceedings ;  and  the  matter  ended  with  an  en- 
gagement on  Goldsmith's  part  to  prepare,  for 
twenty  pounds,  from  which  the  price  of  the 
clothes  was  to  be  deducted,  a  "■  Life  of  Vol- 
taire," to  accompany  a  new  translation  of  "The 
Henriade  "  by  one  of  the  bookseller's  hacks. 

To  this  work,  already  quoted,^  he  refers  in  the 
letter  to  Henry  Goldsmith  of  February,  1759, 
containing  the  personal  portrait  with  which  the 
present  chapter  opens.      After   mentioning   his 

1  Forster's  Life,  1877,  i,  161. 

2  See  ante,  chapter  ii. 


A  Memoir  69 

mother,  who  by  this  time  has  become  almost 
blind,  sending  affectionate  injunctions  to  Bob 
Bryanton  not  to  drink,  and  making  brotherly 
inquiries  after  his  younger  sister  Jenny,  who 
has  married  ill,  he  goes  on:  — 

"There  is  a  book  of  mine  will  be  published 
in  a  few  days,  the  life  of  a  very  extraordinary 
man  —  no  less  than  the  great  Voltaire.  You 
know  already  by  the  title,  that  it  is  no  more 
than  a  catch-penny.  However  I  spent  but  four 
weeks  on  the  whole  performance,  for  which  I 
received  twenty  pounds.  When  published,  I 
shall  take  some  means  of  conveying  it  to  you, 
unless  you  may  think  it  dear  of  [at]  the  post- 
age, which  may  amount  to  four  or  five  shillings. 
However,  I  fear  you  will  not  find  an  equiva- 
lence of  amusement.  Your  last  letter,  I  repeat 
it,  was  too  short ;  you  should  have  given  me 
your  opinion  of  the  heroicomical  poem  which  I 
sent  you  :  you  remember  I  intended  to  introduce 
the  hero  of  the  poem,  as  lying  in  a  paltry  ale- 
house. You  may  take  the  following  specimen 
of  the  manner,  which  I  flatter  myself  is  quite 
original.  This  room  in  which  he  lies,  may  be 
described  somewhat  this  way:  — 

" '  The  window,  patch'd  with  paper,  lent  a  ray, 
That  feebly  shew'd  the  state  in  which  he  lay. 


70  Oliver  Goldsmith 

The  sanded  floor,  that  grits  beneath  the  tread : 

The  humid  wall  with  paltry  pictures  spread ; 

The  game  of  goose  was  there  exposed  to  view, 

And  the  twelve  rules  the  royal  martyr  drew  : 

The  seasons  fram'd  with  listing,  found  a  place 

And  Prussia's  monarch  shew'd  his  lampblack  face. 

The  morn  was  cold  ;  he  views  with  keen  desire, 

A  rusty  grate  unconscious  of  a  fire. 

An  unpaid  reck'ning  on  the  freeze  was  scor'd. 

And  five  crack'd  tea-cups  dress'd  the  chimney  board.' 

"  And  now  imagine  after  his  soliloquy,  the 
landlord  to  make  his  appearance,  in  order  to 
dun  him  for  the  reckoning  :  — 

"  '  Not  with  that  face,  so  servile  and  so  gay, 
That  welcomes  every  stranger  that  can  pay ; 
With  sulky  eye  he  smoak'd  the  patient  man, 
Then  puU'd  his  breeches  tight,  and  thus  began,  &c.' 

"  All  this  is  taken,  you  see,  from  nature.  It 
is  a  good  remark  of  Montaign[e]'s  that  the  wisest 
men  often  have  friends,  with  whom  they  do  not 
care  how  much  they  play  the  fool.  Take  my 
present  follies  as  instances  of  regard.  Poetry  is 
a  much  easier,  and  more  agreeable  species  of 
composition  than  prose,  and  could  a  man  live  by 
it,  it  were  not  unpleasant  employment  to  be  a 
poet."^ 

Honest  Henry  Goldsmith,  in  his  faraway  Irish 

'  Miscellaneous  Works,  1837,  i,  57-9. 


A  Memoir  71 

curacy,  might  perhaps  be  excused  from  ofTering 
any  critical  opinions  upon  a  fragment,  the  ulti- 
mate development  of  which  it  was  so  little 
possible  to  forecast.  The  author  himself  seems 
to  have  carried  it  no  farther  than  this  introduc- 
tory description,  some  details  of  which  are 
certainly  borrowed  from  his  own  Green  Arbour 
Court  environment.  It  was  still  a  fragment 
when  later  he  worked  it  into  letter  xxix.  of 
"The  Citizen  of  the  World;"  and  when,  in 
1770,  part  of  it  served  for  the  decoration  of  "  The 
Deserted  Village,"  it  had  found  its  definitive 
use.  But  it  is  interesting  as  being,  with  excep- 
tion of  the  trifling  epigram  written  in  Scotland 
in  1753,  and  already  referred  to  in  chapter  ii., 
the  first  poetical  utterance  of  Goldsmith  con- 
cerning which  there  is  express  evidence.  From 
this  alone,  as  the  production  of  a  poet  of  thirty- 
one,  it  would  be  hard  to  predict  "The 
Traveller"  or  "Retaliation."  Certainly,  as 
Johnson  said,  Goldsmith  "was  a  plant  that 
flowered  late." 

Not  long  after  the  date  of  the  above  letter  to 
Henry  Goldsmith,  Breakneck  Steps  were  scaled 
by  an  illustrious  inquirer,  whose  experiences 
are,  with  becoming  mystery,  related  in  the 
"Percy  Memoir."  "A  friend  of  his,"  says 
that  record,  in  some  respects  the  most  important 


72  Oliver  Goldsmith 

account  that  exists  concerning  Goldsmith, 
"  paying  him  a  visit  at  the  beginning  of  March, 
1759,  found  him  in  lodgings  there  so  poor  and 
uncomfortable,  that  he  should  not  think,  it  proper 
to  mention  the  circumstance,  if  he  did  not  con- 
sider it  as  the  highest  proof  of  the  splendour  of 
Dr.  Goldsmith's  genius  and  talents,  that  by  the 
bare  exertion  of  their  powers,  under  every  dis- 
advantage of  person  and  fortune,  he  could 
gradually  emerge  from  such  obscurity  to  the 
enjoyment  of  all  the  comforts  and  even  luxuries 
of  life,  and  admission  into  the  best  societies  in 
London.  The  Doctor  was  writing  his  Enquiry, 
&c.,  in  a  wretched  dirty  room,  in  which  there 
was  but  one  chair,  and  when  he,  from  civility, 
offered  it  to  his  visitant,  himself  was  obliged  to 
sit  in  the  window.  While  they  were  convers- 
ing, some  one  gently  rapped  at  the  door,  and 
being  desired  to  come  in,  a  poor  little  ragged 
girl  of  very  decent  behaviour,  entered,  who, 
dropping  a  curtsie,  said,  '  My  mamma  sends  her 
compliments,  and  begs  the  favour  of  you  to 
lend  her  a  chamber-pot  full  of  coals.'  "  ^ 

The  visitor  here  mentioned  so  reticently  was 

Percy  himself,  not  yet  Bishop  of  Dromore,  but 

only   chaplain   to    Lord    Sussex   and    Vicar   of 

Easton  Mauduit  in  Northamptonshire.     He  had 

1  Miscellaneoics  Works,  1837,  i,  61. 


A  Memoir  73 

been  introduced  to  Goldsmith  by  Grainger  of 
The  Morxihly  Review,  at  tiie  Temple  Exchange 
Coffee  House  ;  and  as  he  was  already  collect- 
ing the  materials  for  his  "  Reliques  of  English 
Poetry,"  had  no  doubt  been  attracted  by  his 
new  friend's  knowledge  of  ballad  literature. 
He  was  wrong,  however,  in  thinking  that  Gold- 
smith was  writing  the  "  Enquiry,"  of  which  he 
must  rather  have  been  correcting  the  proofs,  as 
it  was  published  for  the  Dodsleys  in  the  follow- 
ing April. 

It  is  a  commonplace  to  say  that  the  "  Enquiry 
into  the  Present  State  of  Polite  Learning  in 
Europe "  was  somewhat  over-titled.  In  the 
first  edition  it  is  but  a  small  and  not  very  closely 
printed  duodecimo  of  two  hundred  pages;  and 
it  is  shorter  still  in  the  revised  issue  of  1774, 
from  which  a  considerable  portion,  and  notably 
much  of  the  chapter  relating  to  the  stage,  was 
withdrawn.  Obviously  so  wide  a  survey  could 
scarcely  be  confined  in  so  narrow  a  space. 
Nor,  with  all  his  gifts,  was  Goldsmith  sufficiently 
equipped  for  the  task.  It  is  true  he  had 
travelled  upon  the  Continent  (his  sketch,  he 
says,  though  general,  "was  for  the  most  part 
taken  upon  the  spot "),  and  he  was  right  in 
claiming  certain  advantages  for  the  pedestrian's 
point  of  view.     "  A  man  who  is  whirled  through 


74  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Europe  in  a  postchaise,  and  the  pilgrim  who 
walks  the  grand  tour  on  foot,  will  form  very 
different  conclusions,"  he  affirms,  adding,  with  a 
frankness  confined  to  the  first  edition,  "  Hand 
inexpertus  loquor.''''^  But  he  forgot  that  there  is 
also  something  to  be  said  for  the  rival  mode  of 
locomotion,  and  that  it  may  be  urged  that  the 
one  he  adopted  is  open  to  the  charge  of  being 
too  exclusively  that  of  an  outsider.  It  is  need- 
less, however,  to  cross-question  closely  the 
agreement  of  Goldsmith's  performance  with  his 
promise.  What  attracted  him  most,  as  Mr. 
Forster  has  not  failed  to  point  out,  was  less  the 
condition  of  letters  in  Europe  than  the  condition 
of  letters  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of 
his  retreat  in  the  Old  Bailey.  The  mercantile 
avidity  and  sordid  standards  of  the  bookseller, 
the  venal  rancour  of  the  hungry  critics  in  his 
pay,  the  poverty  of  the  poets,  the  decay  of 
patronage,  the  slow  rewards  of  genius,  all  these 
were  nearer  to  his  heart  (and  vision)  than  the 
learning  of  Luitprandus,  or  the  "  philological 
performances  "  of  Constantinus  Afer.  Some  of 
his  periods,  indeed,  have  almost  a  note  of 
personal  disclosure.  Who  shall  say,  for  ex- 
ample, that,  in  more  than  one  sentence  of  the 
following,  it  was  not  Oliver  Goldsmith  whom  he 
1  Foliie  Learni/i^,  1759,  p.  181. 


A  Memoir  75 

had  in  mind  ?  "  If  tlie  author  be,  therefore, 
still  so  necessary  among  us,  let  us  treat  him  with 
proper  consideration,  as  a  child  of  the  public, 
not  a  rent-charge  on  the  community.  And,  in- 
deed, a  cKild,  of  the  public  he  is  in  all  respects  ; 
for  while  so  well  able  to  direct  others,  how  in- 
capable is  he  frequently  found  of  guiding  him- 
self. His  simplicity  exposes  him  to  all  the 
insidious  approaches  of  cunning,  his  sensibility 
to  the  slightest  invasions  of  contempt.  Though 
possessed  of  fortitude  to  stand  unmoved  the 
expected  bursts  of  an  earthquake,  yet  of  feelings 
so  exquisitely  poignant,  as  to  agonise  under  the 
slightest  disappointment.^  Broken  rest,  taste- 
less meals,  and  causeless  anxiety,  shorten  his 
life,  or  render  it  unfit  for  active  employment  ; 
prolonged  vigils,  and  intense  application,  still 
farther  contract  his  span,  and  make  his  time 
glide  insensibly  away.  ...  It  is  enough  that 
the  age  has  already  yielded  instances  of  men 
pressing  foremost  in  the  lists  of  fame,  and 
worthy  of  better  times,  schooled  by  continued 
adversity  into  an  hatred  of  their  kind,  flying 
from  thought  to  drunkenness,  yielding  to  the 
united  pressure  of  labour,  penury,  and  sorrow, 
sinking  unheeded,  without  one  friend  to  drop  a 
tear  on  their  unattended  obsequies,  and  indebted 
1  Cf.  Citizen  of  the  World,  1762,  ii,  81  (Let.  L\xxi.). 


76  Oliver  Goldsmith 

to   charity   for   a   grave    among   the    dregs    of 
mankind."  ^ 

The  title-page  of  the  "  Enquiry"  was  without 
an  author's  name ;  but  Goldsmith  made  no 
secret  of  his  connection  with  the  book.  It  was 
fairly  received.  The  Gentleman's  published  a 
long  letter  respecting  it,  and  the  two  Reviews 
(the  Monthly  and  the  Critical)  gave  reports  of 
its  contents,  both  coloured,  more  or  less,  by  a 
sense  of  the  references  which  they  detected  in 
it  to  themselves.  Smollett,  in  the  Critical,  was 
hurt  that  "  a  work  undertaken  from  public 
spirit,"  such  as  his  own,  should  be  confused 
with  "  one  supported  for  the  sordid  purposes  of 
a  bookseller"  such  as  Griffiths;  and  the  book- 
seller on  his  side  did  not  omit,  in  the  true  spirit 
of  vulgar  reprisal,  to  salt  his  notice  with  un- 
worthy innuendoes  directed  at  his  own  not  very 
satisfactory  relations  with  Goldsmith.  Such  a 
course  was  to  be  expected  in  such  a  warfare ; 
and  it  is  idle  now  to  grow  virtuously  indignant, 
because,  read  by  the  light  of  Goldsmith's  later 
fame,  these  old  injuries  seem  all  the  blacker. 
What  most  concerns  us  at  present  is  that 
the  "Enquiry"  was  Goldsmith's  first  original 
work,  and  that  he  revealed  in  it  the  dawning 
graces  of  a  style,  which,  as  yet  occasionally 
^  J^onieLearniftor,iy^g,  pp.  142-4. 


A  Memoir  77 

elliptical  and  jerky,  and  disfigured  here  and 
th.ere  by  Johnsonian  constructions,  nevertheless 
ran  bright  and  clear.  Acting  upon  his  maxim 
that  "  to  be  dull  and  dronish,  is  an  encroach- 
ment on  the  prerogative  of  a  folio,"  he  had, 
moreover,  successfully  avoided  that  "  didactic 
stiffness  of  w^isdom,"  which  he  declared  to  be 
the  prevailing  vice  of  the  performances  of  his 
day.  "The  most  diminutive  son  of  fame,  or  of 
famine,"  he  said,  "has  his  we  and  his  us,  his 
firstlfs  and  his  secondlys  as  methodical,  as  if 
bound  in  cow-hide,  and  closed  with  clasps  of 
brass." -^  His  own  work  could  not  be  accused 
justly  of  this  defect.  But  on  the  whole,  and 
looking  to  the  main  purpose  of  his  pages,  it 
must  be  conceded  that  he  made  better  use  of 
his  continental  experiences  in  the  descriptive 
passages  of  "  The  Traveller  "  than  in  the  critical 
apothegms  of  "An  Enquiry  into  the  Present 
State  of  Polite  Learning  in  Europe." 

The  "  Enquiry,"  however,  had  one  salutary 
effect :  it  attracted  some  of  the  more  sagacious 
of  the  bookselling  trade  to  the  freshness  and 
vivacity  of  the  writer's  manner.  Towards  the 
close  of  1759  ^^  'S  contributing  both  prose  and 
verse  to  three  periodicals,  The  Bee,  The  Ladys 
Maga\ine,  and  The  Busy  Body.     The  first  two 

1  Polite  Learning,  1759,  pp.  153,  154. 


78  Oliver  Goldsmith 

were  published  by  J.  Wilkie,  at  the  Bible  in 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard ;  the  last,  a  paper  in 
the  old  Spectator  form  —  for  which  Goldsmith 
wrote,  among  other  things,  an  excellent  essay  on 
the  Clubs  of  London  —  by  one  Pottinger.  But 
the  fullest  exhibition  of  his  growing  strength 
and  variety  is  to  be  found  in  the  eight,  or  rather 
the  seven  numbers,  since  the  last  is  mainly  bor- 
rowed, of  The  Bee,  further  described  as  "  a  select 
Collection  of  Essays  on  the  most  Interesting 
and  Entertaining  Subjects."     The  motto  was  — 

"Floriferis  ut  apes  saltibus  omnia  libant 
Omnia  nos  itidem,"  — 

from  Lucretius,  and  it  was  issued  in  threepenny 
parts,  twelve  forming  "a  handsome  pocket 
volume,"  to  which  was  to  be  prefixed  the  ortho- 
dox "emblematical  frontispiece."  Some  of  the 
contents  were  merely  translations  from  Voltaire, 
upon  whose  "  Memoirs,"  we  know.  Goldsmith 
had  recently  been  working ;  some,  such  as 
"The  History  of  Hypatia,"  the  heroine  of 
Charles  Kingsley's  novel,  were  historical  and 
biographical ;  others  again,  —  for  example,  "The 
Story  of  Alcander  and  Septimius,"  and  "Sabinus 
and  Olinda,"  —  were  more  or  less  original. 
But  the  distinctive  feature  of  the  book  is  the 
marked  ability  of  its  critical  and  social  sketches. 


A  Memoir  79 

The  theatrical  papers,  with  their  neat  contrast 
between  French  and  English  actors,  as  regards 
what,  in  "The  Deserted  "Village,"  the  author 
calls  "  gestic  lore,  their  excellent  portrait  of 
Mademoiselle  Clairon,  their  shrewd  discerning 
of  stage  improprieties,  and  their  just  apprecia- 
tion of  "  High  Life  below  Stairs,"  are  still  well 
worth  reading.  Not  less  excellent  are  the 
capital  character  sketches,  after  the  manner  of 
Addison  and  Steele,  of  Jack  Spindle,  with  his 
"  many  friends,"  and  "  my  Cousin  Hannah"  in 
all  the  glories  of  her  white  ndglig^e,  her  wintry 
charms,  and  her  youthful  finery.  In  a  paper 
"On  the  Pride  and  Luxury  of  the  Middling 
Class  of  People,"  he  anticipates  certain  of  the 
later  couplets  of  his  didactic  poems  ;  in  an- 
other, "  On  the  Sagacity  of  some  Insects,"  he 
gives  a  foretaste  of  that  delicate  and  minute 
habit  of  observation  which  dictated  not  a  few 
of  the  happier  pages  of  "The  History  of  Ani- 
mated Nature,"  while  in  an  account  of  the 
Academies  of  Italy,  he  reverts  to  the  theme  of 
the  "  Enquiry."  Among  the  remaining  papers 
two  chiefly  deserve  notice.  One,  "  A  City 
Night-Piece,"  a  title  obviously  suggested  by 
Parnell,  is  tremulous  with  that  unfeigned  com- 
passion for  the  miseries  of  his  kind  with  which 
he  had  walked  the  London  streets ;  the  other, 


8o  Oliver  Goldsmith 

a  semi-allegoric  sketch  in  No.  v.,  a  little  in  the 
Lucianic  spirit  of  Fielding's  "Journey  from 
this  World  to  the  Next,"  is  interesting  for  its 
references  to  some  of  his  contemporaries.  It  is 
entitled  "  A  Resverie,"  in  which  the  luminaries 
of  literature  are  figured  as  passengers  by  a  stage- 
coach, christened  ''The  Fame  Machine."  The 
coachman  has  just  returned  from  his  last  trip  to 
the  Temple  of  Fame,  having  carried  as  passen- 
gers Addison,  Swift,  Pope,  Steele,  Congreve, 
and  CoUey  Gibber,  and  the  journey  has  been  ac- 
complished with  no  worse  mishap  than  a  black 
eye  given  by  Colley  to  Mr.  Pope.  (Had  Field- 
ing been  of  the  party,  as  he  should  have  been, 
that  black  eye  would  certainly  have  been  repaid  !) 
Among  the  next  batch  of  candidates  are  Hill, 
the  quack  author  of  "The  Inspector,"  and  the 
dramatist  Arthur  Murphy,  both  of  whom  are 
declined  by  Jehu.  Hume,  who  is  refused  a 
seat  for  his  theological  essays,  obtains  one  for 
his  history ;  and  Smollett,  who  fails  with  his 
history,  succeeds  with  his  novels.  Another 
intending  passenger  is  Johnson,  and  the  page 
describing  his  proceedings  is  worth  quoting  for 
its  ingenious  tissue  of  praise  and  blame  :  — 

"  This   was  a  very  grave  personage,   whom 
at  some  distance   I  took  for  one  of  the  most 


A  Memoir  8i 

reserved,  and  even  disagreeable  figures  I  had 
seen ;  but  as  he  approached,  his  appearance 
improved,  and  when  I  could  distinguish  him 
thoroughly,  I  perceived,  that,  in  spite  of  the 
severity  of  his  brow,  he  had  one  of  the  most 
good-natured  countenances  that  could  be  im- 
agined. Upon  coming  to  open  the  stage  door, 
he  lifted  a  parcel  of  folios  into  the  seat  before 
him,  but  our  inquisitorial  coachman  at  once 
shoved  them  out  again.  '  "What,  not  take  in 
my  dictionary  ! '  exclaimed  the  other  in  a  rage. 
'  Be  patient,  sir,'  (replyed  the  coachman)  '  I  have 
drove  a  coach,  man  and  boy,  these  two  thousand 
years  ;  but  I  do  not  remember  to  have  carried 
above  one  dictionary  during  the  whole  time. 
That  little  book  which  I  perceive  peeping  from 
one  of  your  pockets,  may  I  presume  to  ask  what  it 
contains  ?'  '  A  mere  trifle,'  (  replied  the  author) 
'it  is  called  the  Rambler.'  'The  Rambler!' 
(says  the  coachman)  '  I  beg,  sir,  you'll  take 
your  place  ;  I  have  heard  our  ladies  in  the  court 
of  Apollo  frequently  mention  it  with  rapture  ; 
and  Clio,  who  happens  to  be  a  little  grave,  has 
been  heard  to  prefer  it  to  the  Spectator;  though 
others  have  observed,  that  the  reflections,  by 
being  refined,  sometimes  become  minute.'"^ 

1   The  Bee,  1759,  pp.  151-2  (No.  v.). 
6 


82  Oliver  Goldsmith 

At  this  date  (November,  1759)  there  seems  to 
have  been  no  personal  acquaintance  between 
Johnson,  whose  "  Rasselas  "  had  followed  hard 
upon  the  "  Enquiry,"  and  the  still  obscure  es- 
sayist of  Green  Arbour  Court.  But  the  friend- 
ship between  the  two  was  not  now  to  be  long 
deferred,  and  may  indeed  have  been  hastened  by 
the  foregoing  tribute  from  the  younger  man. 

There  is  one  feature  of  Goldsmith's  labours 
for  Messrs.  Wilkie  and  Pottinger  which  de- 
serves a  final  word.  Scattered  through  The  Bee 
and  The  Busy  Body  are  several  pieces  of  verse, 
which,  if  we  except  a  translation  of  part  of  a 
Latin  prologue  from  Macrobius  included  in  the 
first  edition  of  the  "  Enquiry,"  constitute  the 
earliest  of  Goldsmith's  published  poetical  works. 
Only  one  of  these,  some  not  very  remarkable 
quatrains  on  the  death  of  Wolfe,  can  be  said 
to  be  original;  the  rest  are  imitations.  "The 
Logicians  Refuted  "  is  indeed  so  close  a  copy 
of  Swift  as  to  have  been  included  by  Scott 
among  that  writer's  works ;  the  others,  with 
one  exception,  are  variations  from  the  French. 
They  comprise  two  well-known  examples  of  the 
author's  lighter  manner.  In  "The  Gift:  To 
Iris,  in  Bow-Street,  Covent  Garden,"  he  man- 
ages to  marry  something  of  Gallic  vivacity  to 
the  numbers  of  Prior;  in  the  "  Elegy  on  Mrs. 


A  Memoir  83 

Mary  Blaize,"  borrowing  a  trick  from  the  old 
song  of  M.  de  la  Palisse,  and  an  epigrammatic 
finish  from  Voltaire,  he  contrives  to  laugh  anew 
at  the  many  imitators  of  Gray.  If  they  do  no 
more,  these  trifles  at  least  serve  to  show  that 
the  lightness  of  touch,  which  is  one  of  his  char- 
acteristics, had  not  been  studied  exclusively  on 
Ene:lish  soil. 


CHAPTER   V 

Amenities  of  authorship;  Newbery  and  Smollett;  work  for  The 
British  Alagazine ;  "History  of  Miss  Stanton;"  other  con- 
tributions ;  The  Public  Ledger ;  Chinese  letters  begun,  Janu- 
ary 24,  1760;  The  Ladys  Magazine;  moves  into  6,  Wine 
Office  Court,  Fleet  Street;  entertains  Johnson  there  May  31, 
1761;  "Memoirs  of  Voltaire"  published;  "History  of 
Mecklenburgh  "  published,  February  26,  1762;  Cock  Lane 
Ghost  pamphlet;  "  Citizen  of  the  World  "  published,  May  i ; 
account  of  that  book;  "The  Man  in  Black"  and  "Beau 
Tibbs;  "  anecdotes;  Plutarch's  lives  begun,  May  i;  out  of 
town  ;  "  Life  of  Nash  "  published,  October  14  ;  sale  of  third 
share  in  "Vicar  of  Wakefield"  to  Benjamin  Collins,  printer, 
of  Salisbury,  October  2S, 

n^HE  visitors  to  Green  Arbour  Court  were 
"*■  not  always  as  illustrious  as  the  Reverend 
Thomas  Percy.  One  day,  according  to  an  in- 
formant from  whom  Prior  collected  some  par- 
ticulars respecting  Goldsmith's  residence  at  the 
top  of  Breakneck  Steps,  a  caller  was  shown  up 
to  him  with  that  absence  of  ceremony  which  was 
the  hospitable  rule  of  his  house,  and  the  door 
of  the  room  was  shortly  afterwards  locked  with 
decision.  Sounds  of  controversy  succeeded. 
But,  as  both  voices  were  heard  in  turn  (amant 


/i  Memoir  85 

alterna  Camoence !),  and  the  tumult  gradually 
subsided,  the  apprehensions  of  the  listeners  also 
passed  away.  Late  in  the  evening  the  door 
was  unfastened,  the  stranger  dispatched  a  mes- 
senger to  a  neighbouring  tavern  to  order  supper, 
and  "  the  gentlemen  who  met  so  ungraciously 
at  first,  spent  the  remainder  of  the  evening  in 
great  good  humour."^  The  explanation  of  this 
incident,  which,  in  all  probability,  belongs  to 
the  last  months  of  1759,  ^^  ^^at  Goldsmith  had 
been  behindhand  when  Mr.  Pottinger,  or  Mr. 
Wilkie  of  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  was  clamour- 
ing for  "copy"  for  the  next  number  of  The 
Bee  or  The  Busy  Body,  and  that  the  entertain- 
ment was  the  consideration  offered  for  the 
unwonted  course  taken  to  obtain  the  required 
manuscript.  It  may  also  serve  to  throw  some 
light  on  the  short  existences  of  those  periodicals, 
by  referring  them  to  the  uncertain  inspiration  or 
fastidious  taste  of  the  principal  writer.  "  I  could 
not  suppress  my  lurking  passion  for  applause," 
says  George  Primrose  ;  "  but  usually  consumed 
that  time  in  efforts  after  excellence  which  takes 
up  but  little  room,  when  it  should  have  been 
more  advantageously  employed  in  the  diffusive 
productions  of  fruitful  mediocrity.  .  .  .  Phi- 
lautos,  Philalethes,  Philelutheros,  and  Philan- 
1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  i,  328-9. 


86  Oliver  Goldsmith 

thropos,  all  wrote  better,  because  they  wrote 
faster,  than  I."  ^ 

But,  in  spite  of  these  drawbacks,  the  literary 
quality  manifested  in  the  two  periodicals  above 
referred  to,  although  they  were  powerless  to 
catch  the  ear  of  the  general  reader,  was  still 
too  unmistakeable  to  be  neglected  by  those  on 
the  alert  for  fresh  talent.  Towards  the  end  of 
17)9,  two  persons  made  their  way  to  Green 
Arbour  Court,  both  of  whom  were  bent  on 
securing  Goldsmith's  collaboration  in  new 
enterprises.  One  was  Dr.  Tobias  Smollett, 
author  of  '■'  Roderick  Random  "  and  "  Peregrine 
Pickle,"  at  this  time  fresh  from  imprisonment 
in  the  King's  Bench,  to  which  he  had  been 
subjected  for  his  too  frank  criticism  of  Admiral 
Knowles  ;  the  other  was  a  pimple-faced  and 
bustling  little  bookseller  of  St.  Paul's  Church- 
yard, John  Newbery  by  name,  whose  ubiqui- 
tous energy  his  friend  Dr.  Johnson  had  pla}'- 
fully  satirised  in  The  Idler  under  the  character 
of  "Jack  Whirler."  Smollett,  not,  it  maybe 
imagined,  less  amiably  disposed  on  account  of 
the  little  compliment  in  the  paper  on  the 
"  Fame  Machine"  referred  to  in  the  last  chap- 
ter, wished  to  obtain  Goldsmith's  services  for 
a  new  magazine,  The  British,  which  appeared 
1  Ficar  of  Wakefield,  1766,  ii,  10. 


A  Memoir  87 

on  the  ist  of  January,  1760,  with  a  flaming 
dedication  to  Mr.  Pitt,  and  the  opening  chap- 
ters of  the  editor's  new  novel  of  "  Sir  Launcelot 
Greaves."  For  this  latest  recruit  to  the  already 
crowded  ranks  of  the  monthlies,  Goldsmith 
wrote  some  of  the  best  of  the  papers  afterwards 
reprinted  among  his  "  Essays."  In  the  Febru- 
ary and  two  subsequent  numbers  came  that 
admirable  "  Reverie  at  the  Boar's  Head  Tavern 
in  Eastcheap,"  which  rubs  so  much  of  the  gilt 
off  the  good  old  times.  In  May  followed  an 
allegory  in  the  popular  taste:  in  June  a  com- 
parison between  two  rival  sirens  at  Vauxhall, 
Mrs.  Vincent  and  Miss  Brent,  which  is  also  a 
piece  of  close  musical  criticism.  Three  other 
contributions  succeeded  in  July,  one  of  which, 
"The  History  of  Miss  Stanton,"  it  has  been 
the  custom  to  regard  as  a  kind  of  early  draught 
of  the  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  Goldsmith  was 
so  economical  of  his  good  things,  and  used  them 
so  often,  that  it  is,  of  course,  not  impossible 
the  "  first  rude  germ"  of  his  famous  novel  may 
lie  in  this  "  true  though  artless  tale  "  of  a  seduc- 
tion. Yet  the  "Vicar"  would  be  little  if 
it  contained  no  more  than  is  outlined  in  the 
characterless  and  rather  absurd  contribution  to 
Smollett's  magazine.  Indeed,  the  conclusion 
is  so   "artless"  as  to  justify   a  doubt  whether 


88  Oliver  Goldsmith 

the  paper  should  really  be  attributed  to  Gold- 
smith's pen  at  all.  At  the  end  the  seducer  and 
the  incensed  parent  exchange  shots  ;  the  latter 
falls  "  forward  to  the  ground  "  and  his  daughter 
falls  "  lifeless  upon  the  body.  .  .  .  Though 
Mr.  Dawson  [the  villain  of  the  piece]  was  be- 
fore untouched  with  the  infamy  he  had  brought 
upon  virtuous  innocence,"  the  story  goes  on 
to  say,  "yet  he  had  not  a  heart  of  stone; 
and  bursting  into  anguish,  flew  to  the  lovely 
mourner,  and  oflFered  that  moment  to  repair 
his  foul  offences  by  matrimony.  The  old  man, 
vjho  had  only  pretended  to  be  dead,  now  rising 
up,  claimed  the  performance  of  his  promise  ;  and 
the  other  had  too  much  honour  to  refuse.  They 
were  immediately  conducted  to  church,  where 
they  were  married,  and  now  live  exemplary  in- 
stances of  conjugal  love  and  fidelity."^  Either 
Goldsmith  is  not  guilty  of  this  farrago  of  foolery 
and  anticlimax  (the  italicised  passages  in  which 
may  be  specially  commended  to  notice)  or  it 
must  once  more  be  owned  that  truth  is  incon- 
ceivably stranger  than  fiction. 

But  although,  in  the  opinion  of  the  present 
writer,  Miss  Stanton's  equivocal  "history"  is 
to  be  classed  among  the  doubtful  contributions 
of  Goldsmith  to  The  British  Magazine,  there  are 

1  Goldsmith's  Works,  by  Gibbs,  1S85,  iv,  495-6. 


A  Memoir  89 

some  other  pieces  concerning  which  there  is  no 
necessity  to  speak  hesitatingly.  Two  of  these, 
indeed,  like  the  "  Reverie  at  the  Boar's  Head," 
were  afterwards  included  among  the  acknowl- 
edged "  Essays"  of  1765.  One  is  an  excellent 
homily  on  the  "  Distresses  of  the  Poor,"  as 
exemplified  in  the  cheerful  philosophy  of  an 
humble  optimist,  who,  battered  almost  out  of 
shape  by  war  and  privations,  still  contrives  to 
bless  God  that  he  enjoys  good  health,  and 
knows  of  no  enemy  in  the  world  save  the 
French  and  the  Justice  of  the  Peace.  The 
other,  in  which  a  shabby  fellow,  found  loung- 
ing in  St.  James's  Park,  relates  the  "  Adven- 
tures of  a  Strolling  Player,"  has  already  been 
referred  to  in  chapter  iii.,  as  probably  repro- 
ducing some  of  the  writer's  own  histrionic  ex- 
periences. By  October,  1760,  however,  the 
month  in  which  it  was  published,  Goldsmith  was 
already  well  advanced  in  a  continuous  series 
of  papers  which  were  to  prove  of  far  greater 
importance  than  his  occasional  efforts  for  Smol- 
lett. A  few  days  after  the  publication  of  the  first 
number  of  The  British  Magazine,  appeared  the 
first  number  of  another  of  Newbery's  projects, 
the  daily  paper  entitled  The  Public  Ledger. 
For  this  also  he  had  secured  the  services  of 
Goldsmith,    who   was   to   write   twice  a  week 


90  Oliver  Goldsmith 

at  the  modest  rate  of  a  guinea  per  article.  One 
of  the  earliest  of  his  efforts  was  what  would 
now  be  regarded  as  a  heinous  piece  of  partisan- 
ship, an  adroit  but  unblushing  puff  of  The 
British  Magazine,  and  Smollett's  novel  therein. 
But  before  this  appeared  he  had  already  estab- 
lished a  hold  upon  the  Ledger's  readers.  With 
a  short  letter  in  the  number  for  January  24th, 
he  had  introduced  to  England  a  Chinese  visitor 
—  one  Lien  Chi  Altangi.  Five  days  later  came 
another  epistle  from  this  personage  to  a  mer- 
chant in  Amsterdam,  giving  his  impressions  of 
London,  its  streets  arid  its  signboards,  its  gloom 
and  its  gutters.  A  third  letter,  addressed  to  a 
friend  in  China,  laughed  with  assumed  Orien- 
tal gravity  at  its  men  and  women  of  fashion. 
Thus,  without  method,  and  almost  by  a  nat- 
ural growth,  began  the  famous  work  afterwards 
known  as  "  The  Citizen  of  the  World." 

The  "  Chinese  Letters,"  as  they  soon  came 
to  be  called,  progressed  through  1760  with 
great  regularity,  and  were  completed,  though 
rather  more  tardily,  in  the  following  year,  under 
which  date  it  will  be  most  convenient  to  speak 
of  them.  For  the  moment,  we  may  return  to 
the  chronicle  of  their  writer's  life.  Beside  his 
work  for  the  Ledger  and  The  British  Magazine, 
he  resumed  his  old  connection  with  The  Ladys 


A  Memoir  91 

Magazine  in  the  new  capacity  of  editor,  and 
raised  its  circulation  considerably.  He  also 
contributed  some  serious  biograpliies  to  The 
Christian  Magazine  of  Dr.  Dodd,  who  was 
afterwards  executed  for  forgery.  All  this  de- 
notes varied  activity  and  continuous  occupation. 
His  means  at  this  time  must  have  been  sufficient, 
and,  as  a  consequence,  he  moved,  at  the  close 
of  1760,  into  better  lodgings  at  No.  6,  Wine 
Office  Court,  nearly  opposite  that  ancient  hos- 
telry of  the  "  Cheshire  Cheese,"  still  dear  to 
the  praisers  of  time  past  as  a  "  murmurous 
haunt  "  of  Johnson  and  his  friends.  Goldsmith 
occupied  these  lodgings  for  about  two  years  ; 
and  it  was  here,  according  to  the  "  Percy 
Memoir,"  that,  on  May  31,  1761,  he  received 
his  first  visit  from  Johnson,  whom  he  had  asked 
to  supper.  "  One  of  the  company  then  invited," 
—  this  is  the  decorous  circumlocution  used  for 
Percy  by  those  who  compiled  the  Memoir  of 
1801,  —  "being  intimate  with  our  great  Lexi- 
cographer, was  desired  to  call  upon  him  and 
take  him  with  him.  As  they  went  together, 
the  former  was  much  struck  by  the  studied 
neatness  of  Johnson's  dress  :  he  had  on  a  new 
suit  of  cloaths,  a  new  wig  nicely  powdered, 
and  everything  about  him  so  perfectly  dissimilar 
from  his  usual  habits  and  appearance,  that  his 


92  Oliver  Goldsmith 

companion  could  not  help  inquiring  the  cause 
of  this  singular  transformation.  '  Why,  sir,'  said 
Johnson,  '  I  hear  that  Goldsmith,  who  is  a  very 
great  sloven,  justifies  his  disregard  of  cleanliness 
and  decency,  by  quoting  my  practice,  and  I 
am  desirous  this  night  to  show  him  a  better 
example.'  "  -^ 

Bosw^ell  did  not  make  Johnson's  acquaintance 
until  two  years  after  this  occurrence,  and  there 
is  therefore  no  further  account  of  this  memo- 
rable entertainment.  Beyond  the  publication 
in  The  Ladys  Magazine  of  the  "  Memoirs 
of  Voltaire,"  nothing  notable  seems  to  have 
happened  to  Goldsmith  in  the  remaining  months 
of  1 76 1.  Probably  he  was  at  work  for  New- 
bery,  for  early  in  the  following  year,  he  issued 
a  "  History  of  Mecklenburgh,"  a  concession  to 
the  anticipated  interest  in  Queen  Charlotte, 
and  a  pamphlet  on  the  Cock  Lane  Ghost, 
which  has  been  identified  plausibly,  but  not 
conclusively,  with  one  bearing  the  title  of  "  The 
Mystery  Revealed,"  put  forth  by  Newbery's 
neighbour,  Bristow.  Cock  Lane,  it  may  be 
added,  was  close  to  Goldsmith's  old  residence 
in  Green  Arbour  Court,  so  that  in  any  case  he 
would  be  in  familiar  neighbourhood.  Then  in 
May,  1762,  in  "  two  volumes  of  the  usual  Spccta- 
1  Miscdlaaeous  Works,  1801,  i,  62-3. 


A  Memoir  ^"^ 

tor  size,"  that  is,  in  duodecimo,  and  "  Printed  for 
the  Author,"  who  still  preserved  what  was  now 
the  merest  figment  of  anonymity,  appeared  the 
collected  "  Chinese  Letters,"  under  the  title  of 
"The  Citizen  of  the  World;  or.  Letters  from 
a  Chinese  Philosopher,  residing  in  London,  to 
his  Friends  in  the  East."  The  phrase  "  Citi- 
zen of  the  World,"  was  one  Goldsmith  had 
already  used  more  than  once,  and  it  had  the 
advantage  of  greater  novelty  than  "  Chinese 
Letters,"  a  title,  moreover,  which  had  already 
been  anticipated  by  the  "  Lettres  Chinoises," 
published  by  the  Marquis  d'Argens.  The  com- 
pleted issue  was  heralded  by  one  of  the  author's 
most  characteristic  prefaces  ;  and  his  prefaces, 
like  his  dedications,  have  always  their  distinctive 
touch.  Speaking  of  the  relation  between  his 
creation  and  himself,  after  recapitulating  some 
of  his  efforts  to  preserve  an  Oriental  local  col- 
ouring (even  to  the  item  of  occasional  dulness), 
he  says  :  "  We  are  told  in  an  old  romance  of  a 
certain  knight  errant  and  his  horse  who  con- 
tracted an  intimate  friendship.  The  horse  most 
usually  bore  the  knight,  but,  in  cases  of  extra- 
ordinary dispatch,  the  knight  returned  the  favour, 
and  carried  his  horse.  Thus  in  the  intimacy 
between  my  author  and  me,  he  has  usually  given 
me  a  lift  of  his  Eastern  sublimity,  and  I  have 


94  Oliver  Goldsmith 

sometimes  given  iiim  a  return  of  my  colloquial 
ease."  Then,  after  a  dream,  in  which  he  repre- 
sents himself  as  wheeling  his  barrowful  of 
"Chinese  morality"  on  the  cracking  ice  of 
'*  Fashion  Fair/'  he  continues,  "  I  cannot  help 
wishing  that  the  pains  taken  in  giving  this 
correspondence  an  English  dress,  had  been 
employed  in  contriving  new  political  systems,  or 
new  plots  for  farces.  I  might  then  have  taken 
my  station  in  the  world,  either  as  a  poet  or  a 
philosopher ;  and  made  one  in  those  little  soci- 
eties where  men  club  to  raise  each  other's  repu- 
tation. But  at  present  I  belong  to  no  particular 
class.  I  resemble  one  of  those  solitary  animals, 
that  has  been  forced  from  its  forest  to  gratify 
human  curiosity.  My  earliest  wish  was  to 
escape  unheeded  through  life  ;  but  I  have  been 
set  up  for  half-pence,  to  fret  and  scamper  at  the 
end  of  my  chain.  Tho'  none  are  injured  by  my 
rage,  I  am  naturally  too  savage  to  court  any 
friends  by  fawning.  Too  obstinate  to  be  taught 
new  tricks  ;  and  too  improvident  to  mind  what 
may  happen,  I  am  appeased,  though  not  con- 
tented. Too  indolent  for  intrigue,  and  too 
timid  to  push  for  favour,  I  am — But  what  sig- 
nifies what  am  I."^  And  thereupon  he  winds 
up  with  a  Greek  couplet  very  much  to  the  same 
1  Citizen  of  the  World,  1762,  i,  iv-v,  v-vi. 


A  Memoir  95 

effect  as  that  with  which  Senor  Gil  Bias  of 
Santillane  concludes  the  first  conclusion  of  his 
delectable  history.'^ 

In  some  of  the  advertisements  of  "  The 
Citizen  of  the  World  "  it  was  announced  that 
the  greater  part  of  the  work,  "was  written  by 
Dr.  Goldsmith."  This  is  a  misconception,  which 
arose  from  the  fact  that  he  had  included  among 
the  epistles  of  Lien  Chi  Altangi  a  few  of  the 
anonymous  contributions  he  had  supplied  to  The, 
Bee  and  other  periodicals.  Thus,  "  The  City 
Night  Piece"  reappears  as  letter  cxvii.,  and 
"The  Distresses  of  a  Common  Soldier,"  from 
The  British  Magazine,  as  letter  cxix.  Haste 
and  pressure  may,  in  the  first  instance,  have 
prompted  these  revivals ;  but  they  were  perfectly 
defensible,  especially  if  we  remember,  as  Gold- 
smith himself  illustrates  by  a  pleasant  anecdote  in 
the  preface  to  a  later  volume,  that  the  author  who 
is  preyed  upon  by  others  has  certainly  a  prior 
right  to  prey  upon  himself.  Omitting  these, 
however,  and  omitting  also  those  which  are 
inspired  by  the  scheme,  and  which  deal  chiefly 
with   memories  of  Du  Halde,  Le  Comte,  and 

^  In   the  later  editions    the   following   translation  is 
added : 

"  Fortune  and  Hope,  adieu! —  I  see  my  port: 
Too  long  your  dupe  —  be  others  now  your  sport." 


96  Oliver  Goldsmith 

the  other  authorities  on  China  consulted  by 
Goldsmith,  there  remains  a  far  larger  amount  of 
material  than  could  be  analysed  in  these  pages. 
The  mind  of  the  author,  stored  with  the  mis- 
cellaneous observations  of  thirty  years,  turns 
from  one  subject  to  another,  v/ith  a  freshness 
and  variety  which  delight  us  almost  as  much  as 
they  must  have  delighted  the  readers  of  his  own 
day.  Now  he  is  poking  admirable  fun  at  that 
fashionable  type,  already  the  butt  of  Hogarth 
and  Reynolds,  the  fine-art  connoisseur,  whom 
he  exhibits  writing  enthusiastically  from  abroad 
to  his  noble  father  to  tell  him  that  a  notable 
torso,  hitherto  thought  to  be  "a  Cleopatra 
bathing,"  has  turned  out  to  be  "a  Hercules 
spinning  ;  "  now,  in  an  account  of  a  journey  to 
Kentish  Town  after  the  manner  of  modern  voy- 
agers, he  ridicules  the  pompous  trivialities  of 
travellers.  Another  paper  laughs  at  the  folly  of 
funeral  elegies  upon  the  great ;  another  at  the 
absurdity  of  titles.  More  than  one  of  the 
Chinese  philosopher's  effusions  are  devoted  to 
contemporary  quacks,  the  Rocks  and  Wards, 
and  so  forth,  who  engross  the  advertisement 
sheets  of  the  day  ;  others  treat  of  the  love  for 
monsters,  of  the  trains  of  the  ladies,  of  their 
passion  for  paint  and  gaming.  There  is  an 
essay  on  the  behaviour  of  the  congregation  at 


A  Memoir  97- 

St.  Paul's,  to  which  it  would  be  easy  to  find  a 
counterpart  in  Steele  ;  there  is  another  on  the 
bad  taste  of  making  a  show  out  of  the  tombs 
and  monuments  in  Westminster  Abbey,  which 
recalls  Addison.  Literature,  of  course,  is  not 
neglected.  Some  of  its  humbler  professors  are 
hit  off  in  the  description  of  the  Saturday  Club 
at  "The  Broom  near  Islington";  other  and 
graver  utterances  lament  the  decay  of  poetry, 
the  taste  for  obscene  novels  (' '  Tristram  Shandy," 
to  wit),  the  folly  of  useless  disquisitions  among 
the  learned,  the  impossibility  of  success  without 
means  or  intrigue.  The  theatre  also  receives 
its  full  share  of  attention,  as  do  the  coronation, 
the  courts  of  justice,  and  the  racecourse  at  New- 
market. Mourning,  mad  dogs,  the  Marriage 
Act,  have  each  and  all  their  turn,  nor  does  Lien 
Chi  Altangi  omit  to  touch  upon  such  graver 
subjects  as  the  horrors  of  the  penal  laws  and  the 
low  standard  of  public  morality. 

But  what  perhaps  is  a  more  interesting  feature 
of  the  Chinese  philosopher's  pages  than  even  his 
ethical  disquisitions,  is  the  evidence  they  afford 
of  the  coming  creator  of  Tony  Lumpkin  and 
Dr.  Primrose.  In  the  admirable  portrait  of  the 
"  Man  in  Black,"  with  his  "  reluctant  good- 
ness"  and  his  Goldsmith  family  traits,  there  is  a 
foretaste  of  some  of  tlie  most  cliarming  charac- 
7 


^8  Oliver  Goldsmith 

teristics  of  the  vicar  of  Wakefield  ;  while  in  the 
picture  of  the  pinched  and  tarnished  little  beau, 
with  his  mechanical  chatter  about  the  Countess 
of  All-Night  and  the  Duke  of  Piccadilly,  set  to 
the  forlorn  burden  of  "lend  me  half-a-crown," 
he  adds  a  character-sketch,  however  lightly 
touched,  to  that  immortal  gallery  which  contains 
the  finished  full-lengths  of  Parson  Adams  and 
Squire  Western,  of  Matthew  Bramble  and  "  my 
Uncle  Toby."  ^  From  the  fact  that  Goldsmith 
omitted  the  third  of  the  "  Beau  Tibbs  "  series 
from  the  later  "  Essays  "  of  1765,  it  would  seem 
that  he  thought  the  other  two  the  better.  It 
may  be  that  they  are  more  finely  wrought ;  but 
the  account  of  the  party  at  Vauxhall,  with  the 
delightful  sparring  of  the  beau's  lady  and  the 
pawnbroker's  widow,  and  the  utter  breakdown 
in  the  decorum  of  the  latter,  when,  constrained  by 
good-manners  to  listen  to  the  faded  vocalisation  of 
Mrs.  Tibbs,  she  is  baulked  of  her  heart's  desire, 
the  diversion  of  the  waterworks,  is  as  fresh  in  its 
fidelity  to  human  nature,  and  as  eternally  effec- 
tive in  its  artistic  oppositions  of  character,  as  any 
of  the  best  efforts  of  the  great  masters  of  fiction. 

1  In  his  delightful  Gossip  in  a  Library,  1891,  p.  210, 
Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  detects  certain  resemblances  between 
Beau  Tibbs  and  the  Count  Tag  of  Coventry's  Pompey  the 
Little. 


A  Memoir  99" 

One  of  the  stories  in  "  The  Citizen  of  the 
World,"  that  of  "  Prince  Bonbennin  and  the 
White  Mouse,"  has,  rightly  or  wrongly,  been 
connected  with  a  ludicrous  incident  in  Gold- 
smith's own  career.  Among  his  many  hangers- 
on  was  a  certain  Pilkington,  —  the  son,  in  fact, 
of  Swift's  Laetitia  of  that  name,  —  who,  on  one 
occasion,  called  upon  him  with  a  cock-and-bull 
story  about  some  white  mice,  which  he,  the 
said  Pilkington,  had  (he  alleged)  been  com- 
missioned to  obtain  for  a  lady  of  quality,  the 
Duchess  of  Manchester  or  Portland  being 
mentioned.  The  mice  had  been  secured  ;  the 
ship  that  bore  them  lay  in  the  river  ;  and  nothing 
—  so  ran  Pilkington's  romance  —  was  wanting 
but  a  paltry  two  guineas  to  buy  a  cage,  and 
enable  the  importer  to  make  a  decent  appearance 
before  his  patroness.  He  accordingly  applied 
to  his  old  college-fellow,  Goldsmith,  who,  not 
having  the  money,  was,  of  course,  easily  cajoled 
into  letting  his  necessitous  friend  pawn  his 
watch.  As  might  be  expected,  neither  watch 
nor  Pilkington  was  ever  seen  again,  and  Gold- 
smith was  fain  to  console  himself  by  composing 
a  little  apologue  in  his  "  Chinese  Letters,"  in 
which  white  mice  played  a  leading  part. 
Another  anecdote  of  this  time  is  connected 
more  with  the  study  of  manners  which  produced 


loo  Oliver  Goldsmith 

"The  Citizen  of  the  World"  than  with  any 
particular  utterance  of  Lien  Chi  Altangi.  Once, 
when  strolling  in  the  gardens  of  White  Conduit 
House  at  Islington,  he  came  upon  three  ladies 
of  his  acquaintance,  to  whom  he  straightway 
proffered  the  entertainment  of  a  dish  of  tea. 
The  invitation  was  accepted  and  the  hospitality 
enjoyed,  when,  to  Goldsmith's  intense  discom- 
fiture, he  suddenly  discovered  that  he  could  not 
pay  the  bill.  Luckily  some  friends  arrived,  who, 
after  maliciously  enjoying  his  embarrassment,  at 
length  released  him  from  his  quandary. 

Upon  the  same  day  as  "The  Citizen  of  the 
World  "  was  published,  appeared  the  first  in- 
stalment of  another  of  those  compilations  for 
Newbery  which  Goldsmith,  having  tasted  that 
dangerous  delight  of  money  advances  for  unexe- 
cuted work,  was  tempted  to  undertake.  This 
was  a  "  Compendium  of  Biography  "  for  young 
people,  the  opening  volumes  of  which  were 
based  upon  Plutarch's  "  Lives."  It  was  in- 
tended to  continue  them  indefinitely  ;  but  seven 
volumes,  the  last  of  which  was  published  in 
November,  were  all  that  appeared,  "  The 
British  Plutarch  "  of  Dilly  proving  a  fatal  rival. 
Before  the  fifth  volume  was  finished  Goldsmith 
fell  ill,  and  it  was  completed  by  a  bookseller's 
hack  of  the  name  of  Collier.     Whether  Collier 


A  Memoir  loi 

also  did  the  sixth  and  seventh  volumes  does  not 
appear.  But  Goldsmith's  ill-health,  caused 
mainly  by  the  close  application  which  had 
succeeded  to  the  vagrant  habits  he  had  formed 
in  early  life,  had  novi^  become  confirmed,  and  he 
spent  some  part  of  this  year  at  Tunbridge  and 
Bath,  then  the  approved  resorts  of  invalids.^ 
Early  in  the  year  one  of  Newbery's  receipts 
shows  that  he  had  agreed  to  write,  or  had 
already  written,  a  "  Life  of  Richard  Nash,"  the 
fantastic  old  Master  of  the  Ceremonies  at  Bath. 
The  book,  which  was  published  in  October, 
is  a  gossiping  volume  of  some  two  hundred  and 
thirty  pages,  pleasantly  interspersed  with  those 
anecdotes  which  Johnson  thought  essential  to 
biography,  and  containing  some  interesting  de- 
tails upon  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  old 
city,  so  dear  to  the  pages  of  Anstey  and 
Smollett.  The  price  paid  for  it  by  Newbery, 
according  to  the  receipt  above  mentioned,  was 
fourteen  guineas. 

With  one  exception,  nothing  else  of  import- 
ance occurred  to  Goldsmith  in  1762.  This  ex- 
ception was  the  sale  by  him  to  a  certain 
Benjamin  Collins,  printer,  of  Salisbury,  for  the 

1  "  And  once  in  seven  years  I  'in  seen 
At  Bath  or  Tunbridge  to  careen." 

Green's  Spleen. 


I02  Oliver  Goldsmith 

sum  of  twenty  guineas,  of  a  third  share  of  a 
new  book,  in  "  2  vols.,  i2mo.,"  either  already 
written  or  being  written,  and  entitled  "  The 
Vicar  of  Wakefield."  The  sale  took  place  on 
the  28th  October,  and  the  circumstance,  first 
disclosed  by  Mr.  Charles  Welsh  in  the  memoir 
of  Newbery  which  he  published  in  1885,  under 
the  title  of  "  A  Bookseller  of  the  Last  Century," 
throws  a  new,  if  somewhat  troubled,  light  upon 
the  early  history  of  the  '•  Vicar,"  as  related  by 
Goldsmith's  biographers.  This  question,  how- 
ever, will  be  more  fitly  discussed  in  a  future 
chapter. 


CHAPTER   VI 

Goldsmith  at  Salisbury  (?);  removes  to  Mrs.  Fleming's  at  Isling- 
ton; Mrs.  Fleming's  bills;  hack-work  for  Newbery;  "His- 
tory of  England  in  a  Series  of  Letters  from  a  Nobleman  to 
his  Son"  published,  June  26,  1764;  Hogarth  at  Islington; 
his  portraits  of  Mrs.  Fleming  (?)  and  Goldsmith;  "The 
Club,"  1764;  its  origin  and  first  members;  Goldsmith  "as  he 
struck  his  contemporaries";  writing  "The  Traveller"  at 
Islington  ;  publication  of  that  poem,  December  19;  its  dedi- 
cation to  his  brother  Henry;  Johnson's  influence  and  opinion; 
characteristics  and  bibliography  ;  sum  paid  to  author. 

TX7HETHER  the  transaction  referred  to  at 
'  *  the  end  of  the  last  chapter  took  place 
at  Salisbury,  or  whether  Benjamin  Collins  made 
his  investment  in  London,  are  points  upon  which 
there  is  no  information.  But  it  is  not  at  all 
improbable  that  Goldsmith  may  have  visited 
Salisbury  in  the  autumn  of  1762,  and  that  the 
sale  of  the  "  Vicar"  may  have  been  the  result 
of  a  sudden  "  lack  of  pence."  Collins  had 
business  relations  with  Newbery.  He  was  part- 
proprietor  of  that  famous  Fever  Powder  of  Dr. 
James,  upon  which,  in  the  sequel,  Goldsmith 
so   disastrously   relied ;    and   in    Mr.    Welsh's 


I04  Oliver  Goldsmith 

"  Bookseller  of  the  Last  Century,"  he  is  also 
stated  to  have  held  shares  in  The  Public  Ledger y 
the  idea  of  which  he  claimed  to  have  originated. 
It  is  most  likely  therefore  that,  being  known  to 
Newbery,  he  was  known  to  Goldsmith,  and 
Goldsmith's  appeal  to  Collins,  when  finding 
himself  in  the  town  in  which  Collins  lived, 
would  be  a  natural  and  intelligible  step. 

To  pass  however  from  conjecture  to  certainty, 
there  is  no  doubt  that,  towards  the  end  of  1762, 
Goldsmith,  for  the  time  at  all  events,  transferred 
his  residence  from  Wine  Office  Court  to  Isling- 
ton, then  a  countrified  suburb  of  London.  It 
was  a  place  with  which,  apparently,  he  was 
already  familiar,  since  he  locates  the  Club  of 
Authors  in  "■  The  Citizen  of  the  World  "  at  the 
sign  of  The  Broom  in  that  neighbourhood,  and, 
in  all  likelihood,  he  had  visited  Newbery  in  his 
apartments  at  Canonbury  House,  of  which 
nothing  now  remains  but  the  dilapidated  tower. 
He  may  even  have  lived  in  the  tower  itself  pre- 
vious to  this  date,  for  Francis  Newbery,  New- 
bery's  son,  affirmed  that  he  lodged  for  some 
time  in  the  upper  story,  "  the  situation  so  com- 
monly devoted  to  poets." -^  But  that  he  came 
to  Islington  at  the  close  of  1762  is  clear  from 
the  Newbery  papers,  to  which,  when  they  wrote 

1  Welsh's  Bookseller  of  the  Last  Century,  1885,  p.  46. 


A  Memoir  105 

their  respective  lives  of  Goldsmith,  Mr.  John 
Murray  permitted  both  Mr.  Forster  and  Mr. 
Prior  to  have  access.  He  had  a  room  in  a 
house  kept  by  a  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Fleming,  who, 
like  his  Fleet  Street  landlady,  was  a  friend  or 
relative  of  Newbery.  The  bookseller,  indeed, 
was  paymaster,  deducting,  with  business-like 
regularity,  the  amount  for  Goldsmith's  keep  and 
incidental  expenses,  from  the  account  current 
between  the  poet  and  himself.  The  "  board 
and  lodging"  were  at  the  rate  of^)0  per  an- 
num, and  Goldsmith' stayed  at  Mrs.  Fleming's 
from  Christmas,  1762,  untilJune,  1764,  or  later, 
the  only  break  being  from  December,  1763,  to 
March  in  the  following  year,  when  he  appears 
to  have  rented,  but  not  occupied,  his  Islington 
hermitage. 

It  is  curious  in  these  days  to  study  the  chroni- 
cle of  Goldsmith's  frugal  disbursements  and 
hospitalities.  Not  many  luxuries  come  within 
the  range  of  Mrs.  Fleming's  recording  pen. 
Once  there  is  a  modest  "  pint  of  Mountain  "  at 
a  shilling,  and  twice  "  a  bottle  of  port"  at  two 
shillings.  A  continually  recurrent  entry  is  the 
humble  diet  drink  called  "  sassafras,"  more 
familiar  perhaps  as  the  "  saloop,"  which,  even 
at  the  beginning  of  this  century,  was  still  sold 
at  street  corners,  prompting  a  characteristic  page 


io6  Oliver  Goldsmith 

of  Charles  Lamb's  '•  Praise  of  Chimney  Sweep- 
ers," and  surviving  later  in  "  Sketches  by  Boz." 
Pens  and  paper  are  naturally  frequent  items, 
and  the  "  Newes  man's"  account,  to  wit,  for 
Public  Ledgers,  London  Chronicles,  Advertisers, 
and  the  like,  reaches  the  unprecedented  sum  of 
i6s.  io|d.  On  the  other  hand,  "  Mr.  Bag- 
gott  "  and  "  Doctr.  Reman"  (Dr.  Wm.  Red- 
mond, says  Prior),  who  seem  to  have  been 
occasionally  entertained  with  dinner  or  tea, 
have  "  O.  O.  O.,"  against  their  names.  Ob- 
viously, Goldsmith  must  either  have  shared  his 
own  meal  with  his  guests,  or  Mrs.  Fleming 
must  have  been  a  person  whose  generosities, 
however  stealthy,  did  not  blush  to  find  them- 
selves proclaimed  in  her  bills.  The  only  re- 
maining items  worth  noting  are  the  price  of  "  a 
Post  Letter,"  which,  as  now,  was  a  penny,  and 
that  of  "  The  Stage  Coach  to  London,"  which 
was  sixpence. 

During  most  of  the  time  over  which  these 
documents  extend,  Goldsmith  must  have  been 
working  for  Newbery.  The  total  amount  paid 
by  the  bookseller  from  October,  1761,  when 
Goldsmith  purchased  from  him  a  set  of  Johnson's 
Idler,  down  to  October  10,  1763,  was^iii  is. 
6d.  At  this  date  £^^3  ^^d  been  earned  by 
Goldsmith  for  "  Copy  of  different  kinds,"  leav- 


A  Memoir  107 

ing  a  balance  against  him  of  ^48  is.  6d.,  for 
which  he  gave  a  promissory  note.  The  record 
of  ascertained  work  for  1763  is  very  bare/  so 
that  the  "copy"  must  chiefly  have  been  pref- 
aces, as  for  example,  that  to  Brookes's  "  System 
of  Natural  History,"  or  revisions  of  Newbery's 
numberless  enterprises.  Only  one  work,  the 
two  duodecimo  volumes  known  as  the  "  History 
of  England,  in  a  Series  of  Letters  from  a  Noble- 
man to  his  Son,"  can  be  identified  as  belonging 
to  this  time.  "  His  friend  Cook  tells  us,"  says 
Mr.  Forster,  "  not  only  that  he  had  really  written 
it  in  his  lodgings  at  Islington,  but  how  and  in 
what  way  he  did  so."  Mr.  Forster  is  here 
both  right  and  wrong.  As  the  "  Letters  of  a 
Nobleman"  were  published  in  June,  1764,  it  is 
most  likely  that  they  were  written  at  Islington  ; 
but  what  Cook  actually  says  is,  that  they  were 
written  in  a  country  house  on  the  Edgeware 
Road  to  which  Goldsmith  does  not  seem  to  have 
gone  until  much  later.  Cook's  account  of  his 
composition  of  the  letters  may,  however,  be 
accepted  as  accurate.  "  His  manner  of  com- 
piling this  History  was  as  follows:  —  he  first 
read    in  a  morning,  from    Hume,    Rapin,    and 

1  The  facsimile,  which  forms  the  frontispiece  to  this 
volume,  shows  what  was  one  of  Goldsmith's  many  un- 
executed schemes. 


io8  Oliver  Goldsmith 

sometimes  Kennet,  as  much  as  he  designed  for 
one  letter,  marking  down  the  passages  referred 
to  on  a  sheet  of  paper,  with  remarks.  He  then 
rode  or  walked  out  with  a  friend  or  two,  who 
he  constantly  had  with  him,  returned  to  dinner, 
spent  the  day  generally  convivially,  without 
much  drinking  (which  he  was  never  in  the  habit 
of),  and  when  he  went  up  to  bed  took  up  his 
books  and  paper  with  him,  where  he  generally 
wrote  the  chapter,  or  the  best  part  of  it,  before 
he  went  to  rest.  This  latter  exercise  cost  him 
very  little  trouble,  he  said  ;  for  having  all  his 
materials  ready  for  him,  he  wrote  it  with  as 
much  facility  as  a  common  letter."  ^  The  book 
was  a  great  success,  in  which  the  bookseller's 
artifice  of  attributing  it  to  a  patrician  pen  no 
doubt  played  its  part.  For  many  years  its  easy, 
elegant  pages  were  fathered  upon  Chesterfield, 
Lyttelton,  or  Orrery,  much  to  the  amusement 
of  the  real  author.  But  his  friends  knew  well 
enough  who  the  real  author  was,  and  both  Percy 
and  Johnson  possessed  presentation  copies. 
Moreover  when  afterwards  Goldsmith  came  to 
write  his  longer  "  History  of  England,"  for 
Davies  of  Russell  Street,  he  transferred  many 
passages  bodily  from  the  earlier  compilation  to 
its  successor. 

^  European  Magazine,  August,  179,3,  P-  94- 


A  Memoir  109 

Among  the  friends  who  visited  Goldsmith  at 
Islington  there  is  reason  for  believingthat  Hogarth 
is  to  be  numbered.  When  he  had  made  Gold- 
smith's acquaintance  is  not  known  ;  but  Gold- 
smith had  referred  to  him  in  "  The  Enquiry," 
and  may  have  been  introduced  to  him  by  John- 
son. The  love  of  humour  and  character  was 
strong  in  both  ;  but  at  this  date  they  must  have 
had  an  additional  bond  in  their  common  dis- 
like of  Churchill.  It  is  pleasant  to  think  that 
the  great  pictorial  satirist  of  his  age  may  have 
sometimes  been  the  strolling  companion  of  his 
gentler  brother  with  the  pen.  Years  ago  Mr. 
Graves,  of  Pall  Mall,  had  in  his  possession  a 
portrait,  said  to  be  by  Hogarth,  which  passed 
under  the  name  of  "  Goldsmith's  Hostess,"  and 
"  it  involves,"  says  Mr.  Forster,  "  no  great 
stretch  of  fancy  to  suppose  it  painted  in  the 
Islington  lodgings,  at  some  crisis  of  domestic 
pressure."  ^  As  will  be  shown  hereafter,  there 
is  no  very  trustworthy  evidence  that  Mrs. 
Fleming  was  connected  with  any  *'  domestic 
pressure  ;  "  and  the  portrait,  in  all  probability, 
had  no  graver  origin  than  an  act  of  kindness. 
In  another  picture,  dating  from  this  time,  also 
attributed  to  Hogarth,  which,  when  Mr.  Forster 
wrote,  belonged  to  a  gentleman  of  Liver- 
1  Forster's  Life,  1S77,  i,  305. 


no  Oliver  Goldsmith 

pool,^  Goldsmith  is  shown  at  work  at  a  round 
table,  perhaps  engaged  upon  one  of  the  identical 
epistles  ascribed  to  Chesterfield.  He  is  writing 
rapidly,  or  appears  to  be  writing  rapidly,  in  a 
claret-coloured  coat,  a  night  cap,  and  ruffles 
loose  at  the  wrist  ;  but,  despite  Mr.  Forster's 
description,  he  seems  to  be  sitting  for  his  like- 
ness rather  than  to  have  been  sketched  at  work. 
The  first  entry  in  Mrs.  Fleming's  account 
for  1764  is  an  item  of  £1  17s.  6d.  for  the 
"Rent  of  the  Room"  for  the  March  quarter 
in  that  year,  an  entry  which  proves  conclusively 
that  only  by  a  figure  of  speech  of  the  Dick 
Swiveller  type  could  Goldsmith's  retreat  be 
described  as  "  apartments."  From  the  absence 
of  other  expenses,  it  is  clear  that  he  was  not  in 
residence,  and  he  does  not  seem  to  have  re- 
turned to  Islington  until  the  beginning  of  April. 
In  the  interim  he  lived  in  London.  One  of  his 
occupations  during  this  period  must  have  been 
his  weekly  attendances  at  the  new  club  just 
formed  upon  a  suggestion  of  Reynolds,  whom 
somebody,  for  that  reason,  christened  its  Romu- 
lus. Johnson,  who  had  previously  belonged  to 
a  kindred  gathering  in   Ivy  Lane,  now  lapsed 

1  The  late  Mr.  Studley  Martin,  by  whom  it  was  ex- 
hibited in  1867  at  the  second  special  exhibition  of  National 
Portraits  at  South  Kensington. 


A  Memoir  m 

or  interrupted  by  the  dispersal  of  its  members, 
fell  easily  into  a  proposition  which  accorded 
so  thoroughly  with  his  gregarious  habits,  and 
other  congenial  spirits  were  speedily  collected. 
Edmund  Burke  and  his  father-in-law,  Dr.  Nu- 
gent, Topham  Beauclerk  and  Bennet  Langton, 
both  of  whom  were  scholars  and  fine  gentlemen, 
Chamier,  afterwards  an  Under  Secretary  of 
State,  John  Hawkins,  a  former  member  of  the 
Ivy  Lane  Club,  and  Goldsmith  himself, —  soon 
made  up  (with  Reynolds  and  Johnson)  the  nine 
members  to  which  the  association  was  at  first 
restricted.  But  a  certain  Samuel  Dyer,  another 
member  of  the  Ivy  Lane  Club,  re-appearing 
unexpectedly  from  abroad,  was  allowed  to  join 
the  ranks,  and  the  number  was  ultimately  ex- 
tended to  twelve.  The  place  of  meeting  was  the 
Turk's  Head  in  Gerrard  Street,  Soho,  "where," 
says  Mr.  Forster,  "  the  chair  being  taken  every 
Monday  night  at  seven  o'clock  by  a  member 
in  rotation,  all  were  expected  to  attend  and  sup 
together."  ^  As  time  went  on  some  further 
modifications  were  made  in  the  rules ;  but  at 
Gerrard  Street  the  club  continued  to  meet  as 
long  as  Goldsmith  lived,  and  it  was  not  until 
nearly  ten  years  after  his  death  that,  with  the 
closing  of  the  Turk's  Head,  it  shifted  its  quar- 
1  Forster's  Life,  iSyy,  i,  310-11. 


112  Oliver  Goldsmith 

ters.  Such  was  the  origin  of  the  famous  gath- 
ering, familiar  in  the  pages  of  Boswell,  and 
afterwards  known  —  but  not  till  many  years 
afterwards  —  as  the  "Literary  Club."  A  few 
of  its  first  members  were  so  illustrious  that  one 
can  understand  something  of  the  astonishment 
with  which  solemn  wiseacres  like  Hawkins 
beheld  themselves  associated  with  the  still  com- 
paratively unknown  recruit  from  Mrs.  Fleming's 
at  Islington.  "  As  he  wrote  for  the  booksellers, 
we,  at  the  club,"  says  he  (but  it  would  be  prob- 
ably more  accurate  to  read  "  I"),  "looked  on 
him  as  a  mere  literary  drudge,  equal  to  the  task 
of  compiling  and  translating,  but  little  capable  of 
original,  and  still  less  of  poetical  composition."  ^ 
Pompous  Sir  John  Hawkins  may  perhaps  be 
forgiven  for  ignoring  the  fact  that 

"  the  music  of  the  moon 
Sleeps  in  the  plain  eggs  of  the  nightingale,"  — 

especially  as  Goldsmith  had  hitherto  published 
no  verse  with  his  name.  But  a  more  authorita- 
tive judge  than  the  Middlesex  magistrate  had 
already  made  deliverance  upon  the  question. 
There  was  an  eager  young  Scotchman  of  the 
name  of  James  Boswell,  who  had  decoyed 
Johnson  into  supping  with  him  at  The   Mitre, 

1  Hawkins's  Life  of  Johnson,  17S7,  p.  420. 


A  Memoir  113 

and  was  already  actively  plying  him  with  ques- 
tions. Among  other  things  he  sought  his  opin- 
ion with  regard  to  Goldsmith,  whose  apparently 
undeserved  importance  seems  to  have  exercised 
him  as  much  as  it  did  Hawkins.  On  the  literary 
side  Johnson's  answer  was  conclusive.  "  Dr. 
Goldsmith,"  he  said,  "is  one  of  the  first  men  we 
now  have  as  an  author."^  These  words  were 
uttered  in  June,  1763,  when  Goldsmith's  reputa- 
tion must  have  rested  solely  upon  his  labours  as 
an  essayist  and  compiler.  For  in  that  year  he 
had  not  obtained  distinction  either  as  a  poet, 
playwright,  or  novelist. 

From  April  to  June,  1764,  Mrs.  Fleming's 
accounts,  as  already  observed,  show  that  Gold- 
smith was  again  at  Islington.  He  was  probably 
employed  for  Newbery,  but  in  what  way  is  un- 
certain. One  anecdote,  however,  is  definitely 
connected  with  the  forthcoming  poem  of  "  The 
Traveller,"  upon  which  he  must  have  occupied 
his  leisure.  Prior  tells  it  as  it  was  told  by 
Reynolds  to  Miss  Mary  Horneck,  from  whom, 
when  Mrs.  Gwyn,  Prior  again  received  it. 
"Either  Reynolds,"  he  says,  "or  a  mutual 
friend  who  immediately  communicated  the  story 
to  him,  calling  at  the  lodgings  of  the  Poet, 
opened   the  door  without  ceremony,   and  dis- 

1  Hill's  YjQi^^W's,  Johnson,  1887,  '>  4o8. 
8 


114  Oliver  Goldsmith 

covered  him,  not  in  meditation,  or  in  the  throes 
of  poetic  birth,  but  in  the  boyish  office  of 
teaching  a  favourite  dog  to  sit  upright  upon 
its  haunches,  or,  as  is  commonly  said,  to  beg. 
Occasionally  he  glanced  his  eye  over  his  desk, 
and  occasionally  shook,  his  finger  at  his  unwill- 
ing pupil  in  order  to  make  him  retain  his  posi- 
tion, while  on  the  page  before  him  was  written 
that  couplet,  with  the  ink  of  the  second  line 
still  wet,  from  the  description  of  Italy, 

'  By  sports  like  these  are  all  their  cares  beguiled, 
The  sports  of  children  satisfy  the  child.' " 

Something  of  consonance  between  the  verses 
and  the  writer's  occupation,  seems  at  once  to 
have  struck  the  visitor,  and  Goldsmith  frankly 
admitted  that  the  one  had  suggested  the  other. 

"The  Traveller;  or,  a  Prospect  of  Society, 
a  Poem,"  was  published  on  the  19th  of  Decem- 
ber,   1764,^  but  the  title-page,  as  is  often  the 

1  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  is  the  practical  editio 
frinceps,  as  it  corresponds  exactly  with  the  description 
in  the  first  advertisements.  But  a  well-known  book- 
collector,  Mr.  Locker-Lampson,  possesses  a  copy,  dated 
1764,  which  would  seem  to  indicate  that  Goldsmith  had 
not  intended  at  first  either  to  give  prominence  to  his  con- 
nection with  the  poem,  or  to  write  a  lengthy  prefatory  letter. 
No  author's  name  appears  on  the  title-page  of  this  unique 
copy,  and  the  dedication  is  confined  to  two  lines;  "This 


A  Memoir  115 

case,  bore  the  date  of  the  following  year.  It 
also  announced  that  the  book,  published  by 
Newbery  as  a  thin  eighteen-penny  quarto,  was 
dedicated  to  the  "  Rev.  Mr.  Henry  Goldsmith," 
and  that  it  was  "by  Oliver  Goldsmith,  M.B." 
The  dedication,  which  occupies  nearly  four 
pages,  is  extremely  interesting.  The  book,  it 
says,  is  inscribed  to  Henry  Goldsmith  because 
some  portions  were  formerly  written  to  him 
from  Switzerland.  "  It  will  also  throw  a  light 
upon  many  parts  of  it,"  continues  the  writer, 
"  when  the  reader  understands  that  it  is  ad- 
dressed to  a  man,  who,  despising  Fame  and 
Fortune,  has  retired  early  to  Happiness  and 
Obscurity  with  an  income  of  forty  pounds  a 
year,"  —  such  being  the  value  of  the  curacy  of 
Kilkenny  West.  Some  of  the  passages  that 
succeed  are  evidently  dictated  by  the  half- 
hopeful  doubt  of  success  which  others  besides 
Goldsmith  have  experienced.  One  of  these, — 
the  following,  —  was  quietly  dropped  out  of  the 
subsequent  editions,  its  anticipations,  in  the 
face  of  the  favour  with  which  the  poem  was 
received,  being  no  longer  appropriate.  "  But 
of  all  kinds  of  ambition,  as  things  are  now  cir- 
cumstanced, perhaps  that  which  pursues  poetical 

Poem  is  inscribed  to  the  Rev.  Henry  Goldsmith,  M.A. 
By  his  most  affectionate  Brother  Oliver  Goldsmith." 


ii6  Oliver  Goldsmith 

fame  is  the  wildest.  "What  from  the  encreased 
refinement  of  the  times,  from  the  diversity  of 
judgments  produced  by  opposing  systems  of 
criticism,  and  from  the  more  prevalent  divisions 
of  opinion  influenced  by  party,  the  strongest 
and  happiest  efforts  can  expect  to  please  but  in 
a  very  narrow^  circle.  Though  the  poet  were  as 
sure  of  his  aim  as  the  imperial  archer  of  an- 
tiquity, who  boasted  that  he  never  missed  the 
heart,  yet  would  many  of  his  shafts  now  fly  at 
random,  for  the  heart  is  too  often  in  the  wrong 
place."  In  the  remainder  of  the  dedication, 
the  author  renewed  the  assault  which  he  had 
already  made  in  the  "  Enquiry"  upon  the  popu- 
larity of  blank  verse,  and  then  proceeding  to 
deplore  the  employment  of  poetry  in  the  cause 
of  faction,  delivered  himself  of  a  thinly  veiled 
attack  upon  the  satires  of  Churchill  —  an  attack 
which,  seeing  that  Churchill  had  only  been  dead 
a  few  weeks,  might  well  have  been  withheld. 
In  his  final  words  he  defined  the  aim  of  his  work  : 
"  I  have  endeavoured."  he  said,  "  to  show,  that 
there  may  be  equal  happiness  in  other  states 
though  differently  governed  from  our  own  ;  that 
each  state  has  a  peculiar  principle  of  happiness, 
and  that  this  principle  in  each  state,  and  in  our 
own  in  particular,  may  be  carried  to  a  mischiev- 
ous excess."     In  another  form  this  thought  is  to 


A  Memoir  117 

be  found  in  the  couplets  which,  recalling  one  of 
his  own  precepts  in  "  Rasselas,"  Johnson  sup- 
plied at  the  end  of  "  The  Traveller  " :  — 

"  How  small,  of  all  that  human  hearts  endure, 
That  part  which  laws  or  kings  can  cause  or  cure. 
Still  to  ourselves  in  every  place  consign'd, 
Our  own  felicity  we  make  or  find." 

The  fact  that  Johnson  contributed  these  lines 
and  a  few  others  to  the  poem,  seems  to  have 
favoured  the  suspicion  that  he  had  rendered 
considerable  assistance  to  the  writer,  and  his 
dogmatic  interpretation  of  a  word  in  the  first  line, 
while  the  real  author  was  stammering  and  hesi- 
tating for  his  meaning,  served  to  strengthen  this 
idea,  especially  among  persons  of  the  Hawkins 
and  Boswell  type.  But  he  distinctly  told  Bos- 
well  that  he  could  only  remember  to  have  written 
nine  lines,  four  of  which  are  quoted  above  ;  and 
(as  Prior  points  out)  his  inexperience  of  travel 
placed  much  of  the  rest  beyond  his  ability. 
Yet  there  is  little  doubt  that  he  considerably 
influenced  the  evolution  of  *'  The  Traveller." 
In  the  first  place,  it  is  Johnson,  not  Pope  or 
Dryden,  who  was  Goldsmith's  immediate  model. 
The  measure  of  the  poem  is  the  measure  of 
"  London"  and  "The  Vanity  of  Human 
Wishes,"  softened   and  chastened   by  a  gentler 


ii8  Oliver  Goldsmith 

touch  and  a  finer  musical  sense.  It  was  John- 
son, too,  Cook  tells  us,^  who  persuaded  Gold- 
smith to  complete  the  fragment,  some  two 
hundred  lines,  or  rather  less  than  half  the  entire 
work,  which  he  had  so  long  kept  by  him.  If 
conjecture  is  admissible  in  a  matter  of  this 
kind,  it  would  seem  most  probable  that  what 
Goldsmith  had  already  written  was  the  purely 
descriptive  portions;^  that  Johnson,  so  to 
speak,  "  moralised  the  song,"  and  that,  stimu- 
lated by  his  critical  encouragement.  Goldsmith 
fitted  these  portions  into  the  didactic  framework 
which  finally  became  "The  Traveller."  But, 
however  this  may  be,  Johnson's  admiration 
of  the  result  was  genuine.  Not  only  did  he 
show,  by  enthusiastic  quotation  long  afterwards, 
that  it  lingered  in  his  memory,  but  he  welcomed 
the  poem  himself  in  The  Critical  Review,  and 
congratulated  the  public  upon  it  "  as  on  a  pro- 
duction to  which,  since  the  death  of  Pope,  it 
would  not  be  easy  to  find  anything  equal." 

^  Eiiropeait  Magazine,  August,  1793,  P-  93- 
2  In  these,  it  has  been  suggested,  he  had  Addison's 
"  Letter  from  Italy,"  in  mind,  and  a  comparison  of  the 
two  poems  at  once  reveals  certain  similarities.  More- 
over, that  Goldsmith  greatly  admired  the  "  Letter  from 
Italy"  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  he  included  it  both  in 
the  "  Poems  for  Young  Ladies  "  and  the  "  Beauties  of 
English  Poesy." 


A  Memoir  119 

What  shall  be  said  now  to  that  "philosophic 
Wanderer" — as  Johnson  wished  to  christen 
him  —  who,  in  Wale's  vignette  to  the  old  quarto 
editions,  surveys  a  conventional  eighteenth- 
century  landscape  from  an  Alpine  solitude  com- 
posed of  stage  rocks  and  a  fir  tree,  and,  in 
Macaulay's  words,  "  looks  down  on  the  bound- 
less prospect,  reviews  his  long  pilgrimage, 
recalls  the  varieties  of  scenery,  of  climate,  of 
government,  of  religion,  of  national  character, 
which  he  has  observed,  and  comes  to  the  con- 
clusion, just  or  unjust,  that  our  happiness  de- 
pends little  upon  political  institutions,  and  much 
on  the  temper  and  regulation  of  our  own 
minds  ?  "  ^  We  take  breath,  and  reply  that  we 
cannot  regard  his  conclusion  as  wholly  just,  or 
accept  it  without  considerable  reservation.  We 
see  difficulties  in  the  proposition  that  one 
government  is  as  good  as  another,  and  we  doubt 
whether  the  happiness  of  the  governed  is  really 
so  independent  of  the  actions  of  the  governing 
power.  But  what,  to-day,  most  interests  us 
in  "The  Traveller,"  is  its  descriptive  and  per- 
sonal rather  than  its  didactic  side.  If  Gold- 
smith's precepts  leave  us  languid,  his  charming 
topography  and  his  graceful  memories,  his 
tender  retrospect,  and  his  genial  sympathy  with 
1  Miscellaneous  Writings,  1865,  p.  302. 


I20  Oliver  Goldsmith 

humanity  still  invite  and  detain  us.  Most  of  us 
know  the  old  couplets,  but  what  has  Time  taken 
from  them  of  their  ancient  charm  ?  — 

"  Where'er  I  roam,  whatever  realms  to  see, 
My  heart  untravell'd  fondly  turns  to  thee ; 
Still  to  my  brother  turns,  with  ceaseless  pain. 
And  drags  at  each  remove  a  lengthening  chain. 

Eternal  blessings  crown  my  earliest  friend, 
And  round  his  dwelling  guardian  saints  attend : 
Bless'd  be  that  spot,  where  cheerful  guests  retire 
To  pause  from  toil,  and  trim  their  ev'ning  fire ; 
Bless'd  that  abode,  where  want  and  pain  repair, 
And  every  stranger  finds  a  ready  chair  : 
Bless'd  be  those  feasts  with  simple  plenty  crown'd. 
Where  all  the  ruddy  family  around 
Laugh  at  the  jests  or  pranks  that  never  fail, 
Or  sigh  with  pity  at  some  mournful  tale. 
Or  press  the  bashful  stranger  to  his  food, 
And  learn  the  luxury  of  doing  good. 

But  me,  not  destin'd  such  delights  to  share, 
My  prime  of  life  in  wand'ring  spent  and  care  ; 
Impell'd,  with  steps  unceasing,  to  pursue 
Some  fleeting  good,  that  mocks  me  with  the  view  ; 
That,  like  the  circle  bounding  earth  and  skies. 
Allures  from  far,  yet,  as  I  follow,  flies  ; 
My  fortune  leads  to  traverse  realms  alone. 
And  find  no  spot  of  all  the  world  my  own." 

Equally    well-remembered    are    the    lines   in 
which  he  records  the  humble   musical  perfor- 


A  Memoir  121 

mances   by   which    he   won   his    way    through 
France  :  — 

"  To  kinder  skies,  where  gentler  manners  reign, 
I  turn;  and  France  displays  her  bright  domain. 
Gay  sprightly  land  of  mirth  and  social  ease, 
Pleas'd  with  thyself,  whom  all  the  world  can  please. 
How  often  have  I  led  thy  sportive  choir, 
With  tuneless  pipe,  beside  the  murmuring  Loire  ? 
Where  shading  elms  along  the  margin  grew, 
And,  freshen'd  from  the  wave  the  Zephyr  flew  ; 
And  haply,  though  my  harsh  touch  faltering  still, 
But  mock'd  all  tune,  and  marr'd  the  dancer's  skill ; 
Yet  would  the  village  praise  my  wondrous  power, 
And  dance,  forgetful  of  the  noontide  hour. 
Alike  all  ages.     Dames  of  ancient  days 
Have  led  their  children  through  the  mirthful  maze 
And  the  gay  grandsire,  skill'd  in  gestic  lore, 
Has  frisk'd  beneath  the  burthen  of  threescore." 

The  description  of  Holland,  "  where  the 
broad  ocean  leans  against  the  land,"  and  the 
lines  on  England,  containing  the  familiar  :  — 

"  Pride  in  their  port,  defiance  in  their  eye 
I  see  the  lords  of  human  kind  pass  by," 

which  his  "illustrious  friend"  declaimed  to 
Boswell  in  the  Hebrides  "  with  such  energy, 
that  the  tear  started  into  his  eye,"  ^  might  also 
find  a  place  in  a  less-limited  memoir  than  the 
1  Hill's  Boswell's  Johnson,  1887,  v,  344. 


122  Oliver  Goldsmith 

present.  Fortunately,  however,  there  is  no  need 
to  speak  of  a  poem,  which  for  three-quarters 
of  a  century  has  been  an  educational  book,  as 
if  it  were  an  undiscovered  country.  Nor  can  it 
add  anything  to  a  reputation  so  time-honoured 
to  say  that,  when  it  first  appeared,  it  obtained 
the  suffrages  of  critics  as  various  as  Burke  and 
Fox  and  Langton  and  Reynolds.  The  words 
of  Johnson,  spoken  a  century  ago,  are  even 
truer  now.  Its  merit  is  established;  and  in- 
dividual praise  or  censure  can  neither  augment 
nor  diminish  it. 

The  first  edition,  as  we  have  said,  appeared 
in  December,  1764.  A  second,  a  third,  and  a 
fourth  followed  rapidly.  There  was  a  fifth  in 
1768,  a  sixth  in  1770,  and  a  ninth  in  1774,  the 
year  of  the  author's  death.  He  continued  to 
revise  it  carefully  up  to  the  sixth  edition,  after 
which  there  do  not  seem  to  have  been  any 
further  corrections.  In  one  or  two  of  the  alter- 
ations, as  in  the  cancelled  passage  in  the  dedi- 
cation, is  to  be  detected  that  reassurance  as  to 
recognition  which  prompts  the  removal  of  all 
traces  of  a  less  sanguine  or  prosperous  past.  In 
his  first  version  he  had  spoken  of  his  "  ragged 
pride."  In  the  second,  this  went  the  way  of 
that  indiscreet  Latin  quotation,  which  in  the 
first  edition    of  the  "Enquiry"    betrayed    the 


A  Memoir  123 

pedestrian  character  of  his  continental  experi- 
ences. But  though  the  reception  accorded  to 
"  The  Traveller  "  was  unmistakeable,  even  from 
the  publisher's  point  of  view,  there  is  nothing  to 
show  with  absolute  certainty  that  its  success 
brought  any  additional  gain  to  its  author.  The 
original  amount  paid  for  "Copy  of  the  Trav- 
eller, a  Poem,"  as  recorded  in  the  Newbery 
MSS.,  is  £2\.  There  is  no  note  of  anything 
further;  although,  looking  to  the  fact  that  the 
same  sum  occurs  in  some  memoranda  of  a  much 
later  date  than  1764,  it  is  just  possible  (as  Prior 
was  inclined  to  believe)  that  the  success  of  the 
book  may  have  been  followed  by  a  supplemen- 
tary fee. 


CHAPTER   Vri 

"Essays:  by  Mr.  Goldsmith"  published,  June  4,  1765;  the 
poetical  essays ;  makes  acquaintance  with  Nugent ;  visits 
Northumberland  House;  "  Edwin  and  Angelina"  privately 
printed;  resumes  practice  as  a  physician  ;  episode  of  Mrs. 
Sidebotham ;  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  "  published,  March 
27,  1766;  Boswell's  "authentic"  account  of  the  sale  of  the 
manuscript ;  variants  of  Mrs.  Piozzi,  Hawkins,  Cumberland, 
and  Cook  ;  attempt  to  harmonise  the  Johnson  story  and  the 
Collins  purchase;  date  of  composition  of  book;  its  charac- 
teristics ;  theories  of  Mr.  Ford ;  bibliography  and  sale. 

/^NE  of  the  results  of  that  sudden  literary 
^-^  importance,  which  excited  so  much  as- 
tonishment in  the  minds  of  the  less  discriminat- 
ing of  Goldsmith's  contemporaries,  was  the 
inevitable  revival  of  his  earlier  productions  ; 
and  in  June,  17615,  Griffin  of  Fetter  Lane  put 
forth  a  three-shilling  duodecimo  of  some  two 
hundred  and  thirty  pages  under  the  title  of 
"Essays:  by  Mr.  Goldsmith."  It  bore  the 
motto  ^' Collecta  repirescunt,'"  and  was  embel- 
lished by  a  vignette  from  the  hand  of  Bewick's 
friend  and  Stothard's  rival,  the  engraver  Isaac 
Taylor.     In  a  characteristic    preface  Goldsmith 


A  Memoir  125 

gave  his  reasons  for  its  publication.  "  Most  of 
these  essays,"  he  said,  "  have  been  regularly 
reprinted  twice  or  thrice  a  year,  and  conveyed 
to  the  public  through  the  kennel  of  some  en- 
gaging compilation.  If  there  be  a  pride  in 
multiplied  editions,  I  have  seen  some  of  my 
labours  sixteen  times  reprinted,  and  claimed  by 
different  parents  as  their  own."  And  then  he 
goes  on,  in  a  humourous  anecdote,  to  vindicate 
his  prior  claim  to  any  profit  arising  from  his 
performances,  finally  winding  up  by  a  burlesque 
draft  upon  Posterity,  which,  as  it  is  omitted  in 
the  second  edition  of  1766,  may  be  reprinted 
here  :  "  Mr.  Posterity.  Sir,  Nine  hundred 
and  ninety-nine  years  after  sight  hereof,  pay 
the  bearer,  or  order,  a  thousand  pounds'  worth 
of  praise,  free  from  all  deductions  whatsoever, 
it  being  a  commodity  that  will  then  be  very 
serviceable  to  him,  and  place  it  to  the  accompt 
of,  &c." 

The  majority  of  the  papers  contained  in  this 
volume  have  already  been  referred  to  in  the 
preceding  pages.  Such  are  the  "  Reverie  at 
the  Boar's  Head,"  the  "  Adventures  of  a  Stroll- 
ing Player,"  the  "  Distresses  of  a  Common 
Soldier,"  and  the  "  Beau  Tibbs  "  sequence, 
only  two  of  which  it  reproduces.  There  are 
others  from  The  Bee,  The  Busy  Body,  and  The 


126  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Lady's  Magazine.  But  the  freshest  contribu- 
tion consists  of  a  couple  of  poems,  which  figure 
at  the  end  as  Essays  xxvi.  and  xxvii.  One  is 
"  The  Double  Transformation,"  an  obvious  imi- 
tation of  that  easy  manner  of  tale-telling,  which 
Prior  had  learned  from  La  Fontaine.  Prior's 
method,  however,  is  more  accurately  copied 
than  his  manner,  for  nothing  is  more  foreign  to 
Goldsmith's  simple  style  than  the  profusion  of 
purely  allusive  wit  with  which  the  author  of 
"Alma"  decorated  his  Muse.  The  other  is 
an  avowed  imitation  of  Swift,  entitled  "  A  New 
Simile  "  ;  but  it  is  hardly  as  good  as  "  The  Logi- 
cians Refuted,"  while  indirectly  it  illustrates 
the  inveteracy  of  that  brogue  which  Goldsmith 
never  lost,  and,  it  is  asserted,  never  cared  to 
lose.  No  one  but  a  confirmed  Milesian  would, 
we  imagine,  rhyme  "stealing"  and  "failing." 
Elsewhere  he  scans  "  Sir  Charles,"  "  Sir 
Chorlus,"  after  the  manner  of  Captain  Costigan  ; 
and  more  than  once  he  pairs  sounds  like 
"  sought"  and  "  fault,"  a  peculiarity  only  to  be 
explained  by  a  habit  of  mispronunciation.-^ 

One  of  the   friends  he  had  made  by  "  The 

Traveller"    was,    like    himself,    an     Irishman. 

This   was   Robert   Nugent  of  Carlanstown,    in 

Goldsmith's  own  county  of  Westmeath  (not  to 

^  This,  however,  is  also  done  by  Pope  and  Prior. 


A  Memoir  127 

be  confounded  with  Dr.  Nugent,  Burke's 
father-in-law),  who,  two  years  later,  was  to  be 
created  Viscount  Clare. ■^  Nugent  was  a  poet 
in  his  way,  —  there  are  a  number  of  his  early 
verses  in  vol.  ii.  of  Dodsley's  "  Collection  ;  "  — 
and  his  ode  to  William  Pulteney  was  good 
enough  to  be  quoted  by  Gibbon.  His  Essex 
seat  (Gosfield)  became  a  frequent  asylum  to 
Goldsmith,  who  wrote  for  his  friend  a  charming 
occasional  poem,  to  which  reference  will  be 
made  hereafter.  But  for  the  present  the  most 
notable  thing  connected  with  Nugent  is  that  he 
introduced  Goldsmith  to  the  notice  of  the  Earl 
of  Northumberland,  then  Lord-Lieutenant  of 
Ireland,  who,  says  Percy,  being  newly  returned 
from  that  country  in  1764,  "  invited  our  poet  to 
an  interview."  It  is  supposed,  though  the 
"Percy  Memoir"  is  here  a  little  confusing, 
that  this  interview  was  the  same  as  one  of  which 
Sir  John  Hawkins  gives  the  following  account : 
"  Having  one  day,"  he  says,  "a  call  to  wait 
on  the  late  Duke,  then  Earl,  of  Northumber- 
land, I  found  Goldsmith  waiting  for  an  audience 
in  an  outer  room  ;  I  asked  him  what  had  brought 
him  there  :  he  told  me  an  invitation  from  his 
lordship.      I   made   my   business  as  short  as    I 

1  A  Afemoir  of  Robert,  Lord  N'ttgeiit  (liis  last  title),  was 
issued  in  1S98  by  his  descendant,  Mr.  Claud  Nugent. 


128  Oliver  Goldsmith 

could,  and,  as  a  reason,  mentioned  that  Dr. 
Goldsmith  was  waiting  without.  The  Earl 
asked  me  if  I  was  acquainted  with  him :  I  told 
him  I  was,  adding  what  I  thought  likely  to 
recommend  him.  I  retired,  and  staid  in  the 
outer  room  to  take  him  home.  Upon  his  com- 
ing out,  I  asked  him  the  result  of  his  conver- 
sation. '  His  lordship,'  says  he,  '  told  me  he 
had  read  my  poem  '  meaning  '  The  Traveller,' 
'and  was  much  delighted  with  it  ;  that  he  was 
going  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  that, 
hearing  that  I  was  a  native  of  that  country,  he 
should  be  glad  to  do  me  any  kindness.'  '  And 
what  did  you  answer,'  asked  I,  '  to  this  gracious 
offer  ? '  *  Why,'  said  he,  '  I  could  say  nothing 
but  that  I  had  a  brother  there,  a  clergyman, 
that  stood  in  need  of  help  :  as  for  myself,  I  have 
no  dependence  on  the  promises  of  great  men  : 
I  look  to  the  booksellers  for  support ;  they  are 
my  best  friends,  and  I  am  not  inclined  to  for- 
sake them  for  others.'  "  One  can  imagine  what 
kind  of  effect  this  entirely  unsophisticated  pro- 
ceeding would  have  upon  the  time-serving  nar- 
rator of  the  anecdote ;  and  indeed,  his  indignation 
blazes  out  in  the  comment  with  which  he  con- 
cludes his  story.  "Thus,"  he  exclaims,  "did 
this  idiot  in  the  affairs  of  the  world,  trifle  with 
his  fortunes,  and  put    back  the  hand  that  was 


A  Memoir  129 

held  out  to  assist  him  1  Other  offers  of  a  like 
kind  he  either  rejected,  or  failed  to  improve, 
contenting  himself  with  the  patronage  of  one 
nobleman,^  whose  mansion  afforded  him  the 
delight  of  a  splendid  table,  and  a  retreat  for  a 
few  days  from  the  metropolis."  ^ 

Few  people,  probably,  will  take  Hawkins's 
view  of  the  matter,  or,  at  all  events,  they  will 
find  it  difficult  to  conceive  that  Goldsmith,  being 
Goldsmith,  could  have  acted  in  any  different 
way.  His  acquaintanceship  with  the  Earl  and 
Countess  does  not  however  seem  to  have  suf- 
fered on  this  account.  Possibly  it  was  fostered 
by  Percy,  who,  as  their  kinsman,  should,,  one 
would  think,  have  been  the  first  to  introduce 
the  poet  to  his  illustrious  relatives.  But  the 
"Percy  Memoir,"  as  stated  above,  distinctly 
assigns  this  office  to  Nugent.  Percy's  "  Re- 
liques  of  Ancient  Poetry,"  upon  which  he  was 
then  engaged,  nevertheless,  afforded  opportunity 
for  a  further  recognition  of  the  poet  by  the 
Northumberlands.  Out  of  many  metrical  dis- 
cussions with  Percy  had  grown  a  ballad  in  old 
style,  to  which  Goldsmith  gave  the  name  of 
"  Edwin  and  Angelina,"  although  it  was  after- 

1  Nugent,  as  yet,  was  only  "  Mr."  But  Hawkins 
wrote  his  "  Life  of  Johnson  "  many  years  after  this  date. 

2  Hawkins's  Life  cj  Johnson,  1787,  p.  419.  _ 

9 


130  Oliver  Gohismitb 

wards  known  as  "  The  Hermit."  The  Coun- 
tess of  Northumberland  admired  it  so  much, 
that  a  few  copies,  now  of  the  rarest,  were 
struck  off  for  her  benefit,  and  it  was  afterwards 
included  in  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  Gold- 
smith took  immense  pains  with  this  poem.  The 
privately  printed  version  differs  considerably 
from  that  in  the  "Vicar";  the  text  in  the 
"  Vicar"  varies  in  the  successive  editions  ;  and 
there  are  other  variations  in  the  volume  of 
selections  in  which  he  afterwards  included  it. 
With  its  author,  "Edwin  and  Angelina"  was 
always  a  favourite.  "  As  to  my  'Hermit,'  that 
poem,"  he  told  Cradock,  "cannot  be  amended."^ 
And  Hawkins  only  echoed  contemporary  opin- 
ion when  he  called  it  "  one  of  the  finest  poems 
of  the  lyric  kind  that  our  language  has  to  boast 
of."  2  \Ye,  who  have  heard  so  many  clear- 
voiced  singers  since  Goldsmith's  time,  can 
scarcely  endorse  that  judgment,  nor  can  we 
feel  for  it  the  enthusiasm  which  it  excited  when 
Percy's  "  Reliques  "  were  opening  new  realms 
of  freedom  to  those  who  had  hitherto  been 
prisoned  in  the  trim  parterres  of  Pope.  At 
most  we  can  allow  it  accomplishment  and  ease. 
But  its  sweetness  has  grown  a  little  insipid,  and 

^  Cradock's  Literary  Memoirs,  1S28,  iv,  286. 
2  Hawkins's  Life  0/  Jo/mson,  1787,  p.  420. 


A  Memoir  131 

its  simplicity,  to  eyes  unanointed  with  eigii- 
teenth-century  sympathy,  borders  perilously 
upon  the  ludicrous. 

In  the  same  year  in  which  "  Edwin  and 
Angelina"  was  printed,  Goldsmith  again  at- 
tempted to  earn  a  livelihood  as  a  physician. 
This  step,  prompted  by  the  uncertainty  of  his 
finances,  is  said  to  have  been  recommended  by 
Reynolds,  by  Mrs.  Montagu  (to  whom  he  had 
recently  become  known),  and  other  friends. 
Evidence  of  his  resumed  profession  speedily 
appeared  in  his  tailor's  account  book,  which, 
under  the  date  of  June,  17615,  records  the  pur- 
chase of  purple  silk  small  clothes,  and  the  ortho- 
dox "  scarlet  roquelaure  buttoned  to  the  chin  " 
at  four  guineas  and  a  half.  These  excesses  must 
have  been  productive  of  others,  for,  in  the 
short  space  of  six  months,  three  more  suits  are 
charged  for,  and  this  expenditure  involves  the 
complementary  items  of  wig,  cane,  sword,  and 
so  forth.  After  these  followed  a  man-servant. 
But  all  this  lavish  equipment  seems  to  have 
failed  in  securing  a  practice.  We  hear,  indeed, 
of  one  patient,  whose  moving  story  is  told  by 
Prior  as  he  had  received  it  from  a  lady^  to 
whom  Reynolds  had  related  it  :  "  He  [Gold- 
smith] had  been  called  in  to  a  Mrs.  Sidebotham, 
'  Mrs.  Gwyn,  vide  post,  p.  193. 


132  Oliver  Goldsmith 

an  acquaintance,  labouring  under  illness,  and 
having  examined  and  considered  the  case,  wrote 
his  prescription.  The  quality  or  quantity  of  the 
medicine  ordered,  exciting  the  notice  of  the 
apothecary  in  attendance,  he  demurred  to  ad- 
minister it  to  the  patient ;  an  argument  ensued 
which  had  no  effect  in  convincing  either  party 
of  error,  and  some  heat  being  produced  by  the 
contention,  an  appeal  was  at  length  made  to 
the  patient  to  know  by  whose  opinion  and 
practice  she  chose  to  abide.  She,  deeming  the 
apothecary  the  better  judge  of  the  two  from 
being  longer  in  attendance,  decided  for  him ; 
and  Goldsmith  quitted  the  house  highly  indig- 
nant, declaring  to  Sir  Joshua  he  would  leave 
off  prescribing  for  friends.  '  Do  so,  my  dear 
Doctor,'  replied  Topham  Beauclerk  when  he 
heard  the  story  and  afterwards  jested  with  him 
on  the  subject ;  '  whenever  you  undertake  to 
kill,  let  it  be  only  your  enemies.'"^ 

The  next  notevv'orthy  occurrence  in  Gold- 
smith's life  is  the  publication,  on  the  27th  of 
March,  1766,  in  "  two  Volumes  in  Twelves,"  of 
the  novel  of  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  The 
imprint  was  "  Salisbury  :  Printed  by  B.  Collins ; 
For  F.  Newbery,  in  Pater-Noster-Row,"  by 
which  latter  it  was  advertised  for  sale,  "  Price 
1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  105. 


A  Memoir  133 

6s.  bound,  or  ^s.  sewed."  There  was  no  author's 
name  on  the  title-page,  but  the  "  Advertisement" 
was  signed  "  Oliver  Goldsmith."  The  motto 
"  Sperate  miseri,  cavete  felices,''  is  to  be  found 
in  Burton's  "  Anatomy,"  from  which  store- 
house of  quotation  Goldsmith  had  probably 
borrowed  it.  Collins,  the  printer,  it  will  be 
remembered,  is  the  same  person  who,  as  related 
at  the  close  of  chapter  v.,  had  purchased  a 
third  share  in  the  book  for  twenty  guineas  in 
October,  1762,  more  than  three  years  before. 
That  it  was  sold  in  this  way  is  further  confirmed 
by  the  fact  that  some  years  later,  according  to 
old  accounts  consulted  by  Mr.  Welsh,  it  still 
belonged  to  Collins  and  two  other  sharehold- 
ers, those  shareholders  being  John  Newbery's 
successors  and  Johnson's  friend  Strahan.  This 
story  of  the  sale  is  perfectly  in  accordance  with 
eighteenth-century  practice  ;  and,  except  that  it 
is  difficult  to  understand  why  the  book  remained 
so  long  unpublished,  calls  for  no  especial  remark. 
And  even  the  delay  in  publication  can  be  ex- 
plained by  neglect  on  the  author's  part  (not  at 
all  a  fanciful  supposition  !)  to  put  the  finishing 
touches  to  work  which  had  been  already  paid 
for.  But  the  attraction  of  Mr.  Welsh's  dis- 
covery lies  in  its  apparently  destructive  conflict 
with  the  time-honoured  and  picturesque  narra- 


134  Oliver  Goldsmith 

tlve  given  (through  Boswell)  by  Johnson,  and 
by  others  for  the  most  part  deriving  their  data 
from  him,  of  the  original  sale  of  the  manuscript. 
It  is  as  follows:  —  "  I  [Johnson]  received  one 
morning  a  message  from  poor  Goldsmith  that  he 
was  in  great  distress,  and,  as  it  vi^as  not  in  his 
power  to  come  to  me,  begging  that  I  would 
come  to  him  as  soon  as  possible.  I  sent  him 
a  guinea,  and  promised  to  come  to  him  directly. 
I  accordingly  went  as  soon  as  I  was  drest,  and 
found  that  his  landlady  had  arrested  him  for  his 
rent,  at  which  he  was  in  a  violent  passion.  I 
perceived  that  he  had  already  changed  my  guinea, 
and  had  got  a  bottle  of  Madeira  and  a  glass  be- 
fore him.  I  put  the  cork  into  the  bottle,  de- 
sired he  would  be  calm,  and  began  to  talk  to  him 
of  the  means  by  which  he  might  be  extricated. 
He  then  told  me  that  he  had  a  novel  ready  for 
the  press,  which  he  produced  to  me.  I  looked 
into  it,  and  saw  its  merit ;  told  the  landlady  I 
should  soon  return  ;  and  having  gone  to  a  book- 
seller, sold  it  for  sixty  pounds.  I  brought  Gold- 
smith the  money,  and  he  discharged  his  rent, 
not  without  rating  his  landlady  in  a  high  tone 
for  having  used  him  so  ill."  ^ 

Such  is  Boswell's  report,  taken,  as  he  says, 
"authentically"   from  Johnson's    "own   exact 
1  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson,  1791,  i,  225. 


A  Memoir  135 

narration."  Elsewhere,  recording  a  conversa- 
tion at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  in  April,  1778,  he 
supplies  some  further  particulars.  "  His  '  Vicar 
of  Wakefield,'"  said  Johnson,  "  I  myself  did 
not  think  would  have  had  much  success.  It  was 
written  and  sold  to  a  bookseller  before  his 
'Traveller';  but  published  after;  so  little  ex- 
pectation had  the  bookseller  from  it.  Had  it 
been  sold  after  '  The  Traveller,'  he  might  have 
had  twice  as  much  money  for  it,  though  sixty 
guineas  was  no  mean  price.''  Here,  it  will  be 
observed,  Johnson  says  "guineas"  instead  of 
"  pounds."  But  "pounds  "  and  "  guineas,"  as 
Croker  points  out  in  one  of  his  notes,  were  then 
convertible  terms.  The  same  story,  or  rather  a 
story  having  for  its  central  features  Goldsmith's 
need,  Johnson's  aid,  and  the  consequent  sale  of 
a  manuscript,  is  told  with  variations  by  other 
writers.  Mrs.  Piozzi,  for  example,  in  her 
"Anecdotes  of  Johnson,"  1786,  pp.  119-20, 
makes  him  leave  her  house  to  go  to  Goldsmith's 
assistance  ;  but  upon  the  question  of  the  price, 
she  only  says  that  he  brought  back  "  some 
immediate  relief."  It  is  now  known,  however, 
that  she  did  not  make  Johnson's  acquaintance 
until  January,  1765,  and,  looking  to  the  express 
statement  by  Johnson  that  the  "Vicar"  was 
sold  before  the  publication  of  "  The  Traveller  " 


136  Oliver  Goldsmith 

in  December,  1764,  is  obviously  at  fault  in  one 
material  point  of  her  story.  Hawkins,  again,  in 
his  "  Life  of  Johnson,"  1787,  pp.  420,  421, 
gives  a  jumbled  version,  which  places  the 
occurrence  at  Canonbury  House,  makes  the 
bookseller  Newbery,  and  the  amount  forty 
pounds.  Lastly  Cumberland,  writing  his  garru- 
lous Memoirs,  gives  the  incident  as  (he  alleges) 
he  had  heard  Dr.  Johnson  relate  it  "with  in- 
finite humour."  In  this  account  the  publisher  is 
Dodsley ;  the  price  "ten  pounds  only";  and 
piquancy  is  added  by  an  unexpected  detail. 
Goldsmith  "  was  at  his  wit's-end  how  to  wipe 
off  the  score  and  keep  a  roof  over  his  head,  ex- 
cept by  closing  with  a  very  staggering  proposal 
on  her  [his  landlady's]  part,  and  taking  his 
creditor  to  wife,  whose  charms  were  very  far 
from  alluring,  whilst  her  demands  were  extremely 
urgent."  ^ 

The  foregoing  accounts,  that  of  Hawkins 
excepted,  profess  to  be  based  upon  Johnson's 
narrative  of  the  facts.  From  the  only  other 
actor  in  the  drama,  Goldsmith  —  if  we  except  a 
wholly  incredible  statement  to  Boswell  that  he 
had  received  four  hundred  pounds  for  a  novel, 
supposed  to  be  "The  Vicar  of  Wakefield"  — 
there  is  nothing  except  the  following  passage  in 

1  Memoirs,  1S07,  i,  372-3. 


A  Memoir  137 

Cook's  reminiscences,  which,  probably  because 
it  was  hopelessly  at  variance  with  the  generally 
accepted  story,  seems  to  have  been  entirely 
neglected  by  Goldsmith's  biographers.  Cook, 
doubtless,  made  some  mistakes ;  but  he  is 
certainly  entitled  to  be  heard  by  the  side  of 
Hawkins,  Cumberland,  and  Mrs.  Piozzi. 
"  The  Doctor,"  he  tells  us,  "  soon  after  his 
acquaintance  with  Newbery,  for  whom  he  held 
'  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer,'  removed  to  lodgings 
in  Wine  Office  Court,  Fleet-Street,  where  he 
finished  his  '  Vicar  of  Wakefield,'  and  on  which 
his  friend  Newbery  advanced  him  twenty 
guineas  :  '  A  sum,'  says  the  Doctor,  '  I  was  so 
little  used  to  receive  in  a  lump,  that  I  felt  my- 
self under  the  embarrassment  of  Captain  Brazen 
in  the  play,^  "  whether  I  should  build  a  priva- 
teer or  a  play-house  with  the  money  I  "  '  "  2  it 
will  be  noted  that,  in  more  than  one  particular, 
this  account  is  confirmatory  of  the  latest  develop- 
ment of  the  story.  It  gives  the  value  of  a  third 
share  accurately  ;  it  describes  it  as  an  advance  ; 
it  makes  the  advancer  Newbery,  and,  by  impli- 
cation, it  places  the  occurrence  in  Wine  Office 
Court,  where  Goldsmith  lived   to    the    end   of 

^  /.  If.,  in  the  "  Recruiting  Officer,"  Act  v.,  Sc.  3,     Gold- 
smith greatly  admired  Farquhar. 

2  European  Magazine,  August,  1793,  p.  92. 


138  Oliver  Goldsmith 

1762,  in  October  of  which  year,  either  at  Salis- 
bury or  London,  Collins  effected  his  purchase. 
Unless  some  further  discoveries  are  made,  it 
is  not  likely  that  the  above  discrepancies  can  be 
finally  adjusted.  But  as  the  latest  editor  of 
Boswell  has  thrown  no  light  upon  the  subject, 
and  the  latest  biographer  of  Johnson  has  handed 
it  over  to  the  biographers  of  Goldsmith,  it  is 
scarcely  possible  to  quit  the  question  without 
suggestion  of  some  kind.  The  fact  of  Collins's 
purchase  of  a  third  share,  resting  as  it  does 
upon  the  evidence  of  his  own  account-books, 
which  have  been  inspected  by  the  present  writer, 
is  incontestable.  The  account  of  Johnson's 
sale  of  the  manuscript,  as  Johnson,  habitually 
"attentive  to  truth  in  the  most  minute  particu- 
lars," originally  gave  it,  is  no  doubt  also 
essentially  true,  and  its  variations  under  other 
hands  may  be  attributed  in  part  to  confused 
recollections  of  a  confusing  story.  The  mention 
of  twenty  guineas  and  forty  pounds  in  two  of 
the  versions  appears  to  indicate  a  confirmation 
of  the  sale  by  shares ;  while  the  phrase  "  imme- 
diate relief"  used  by  Mrs.  Piozzi,  and  the 
"money  for  his  relief"  of  Hawkins,  suggest 
that  Johnson  may  not  have  meant  that  he  actu- 
ally obtained  the  whole  of  the  sixty  pounds  or 
guineas,  but  only  that  he  had  agreed  upon  that 


A  Memoir  139 

as  the  entire  price,  which  he  would  have  to  do 
in  order  to  establish  the  value  of  a  share.  If  he 
only  brought  back  part  of  the  money,  the  case 
admits  of  plausible  solution.  Unless  Boswell 
bungled  terribly  in  his  "exact  narration,"  it  is 
most  improbable  that  the  Collins  sale  preceded 
the  Johnson  sale.  If  it  did,  it  involves,  what  is 
practically  inadmissible,  dishonesty  on  the  part 
of  Goldsmith  or  Johnson,  in  selling  as  a  whole  a 
book  of  which  a  part  had  already  been  disposed 
of.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Johnson  sale 
came  before  the  Collins  sale,  the  not  unreasonable 
explanation  would  be  that  Johnson,  called  in,  as 
he  says,  to  Goldsmith's  aid,  went  to  Newbery 
or  Strahan,  settled  upon  the  price  of  the  manu- 
script, and  procured  for  Goldsmith  "  immediate 
relief"  in  the  shape  of  an  advance  for  one  or  for 
two  shares.  The  other  share  or  shares  would 
remain  to  be  disposed  of  by  the  author,  and  so, 
either  at  Salisbury  or  London,  the  transfer  to 
Collins  would  come  about.  The  only  objection 
to  this  supposition  is,  that  it  puts  back  the  sale 
to  1762,  instead  of  the  usually  accepted  date  of 
1764.  But  1764  has  only  been  chosen  because 
it  is  the  year  of  the  publication  of  "The 
Traveller."  And  it  is  noticeable  that  Boswell, 
who  made  Johnson's  acquaintance  in  May,  1765, 
does   not   speak    of  the    incident   as  if  it   had 


I40  Oliver  Goldsmith 

happened  within  his  personal  experience.  On 
the  other  hand,  in  1762,  Goldsmith  was  at  Wine 
Office  Court,  where.  Cook  says,  he  finished  the 
book.  At  Wine  Office  Court,  we  believe,  the 
occurrence  took  place.  It  is  more  likely  that 
Johnson,  close  at  hand  in  Inner  Temple  Lane, 
would  come  to  Wine  Office  Court  than  to 
Islington  ;  and  it  is  not  likely  that  Mrs.  Flem- 
ing, the  only  evidence  concerning  whom,  viz., 
her  accounts,  goes  to  show  that  she  was  not  a 
particularly  grasping  personage,  would  arrest 
Goldsmith  for  bills  which  were  usually  paid  by 
her  friend  Mr.  Newbery.  In  cases  of  this 
kind,  it  is  necessary,  as  a  first  duty,  to  clear 
away  structures  that  have  been  raised  upon  false 
data,  and  one  of  these  is  the  traditional  reputa- 
tion, as  an  arbitrary  person,  of  poor  Mrs. 
Fleming  of  Islington.  For,  if  the  sale  by 
Johnson  took  place  in  London,  and  not  at 
Islington,  Mrs.  Fleming  is  not  concerned  in  it. 
But  when  Cook  says  that  the  "Vicar"  was 
finished  at  Wine  Office  Court,  it  is  probable  that 
he  is  not  strictly  accurate.  What  is  most  likely 
is,  that  when  Goldsmith's  pressure  came,  it  was 
sufficiently  finished  to  be  sold.  That  it  was 
written,  or  being  written,  in  1762,  appears  from 
the  reference  in  chap.  xix.  to  The  Auditor, 
which  began  its  career  in  June  of  that  year,  and 


A  Memoir  141 

from  the  mention  in  chap,  ix.  of  the  musical 
glasses  then  in  vogue.  But  that  it  could  not 
have  been  "  ready  for  the  press"  is  plain  from 
the  fact  that  the  ballad  of  "  Edwin  and  Ange- 
lina," privately  printed  in  1765  for  the  Countess 
of  Northumberland,  and  first  published  in  the 
novel,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  in  existence 
until  about  1764.  Percy  says  that  it  was  com- 
posed before  his  own  "  Friar  of  Orders  Gray," 
which  came  out  in  the  "  Reliques  of  English 
Poetry"  in  1765,  and  Hawkins  speaks  of  it  in 
terms  which  imply  that  its  composition  belongs 
to  some  period  subsequent  to  the  establishment 
of  ''the  Club"  at  the  beginning  of  1764.  *'  He 
had,  nevertheless,  unknown  to  us,  written  and 
addressed  to  the  Countess,  afterwards  Duchess, 
of  Northumberland,  one  of  the  finest  poems  of 
the  lyric  kind  that  our  language  has  to  boast  of."  "• 
Although  it  is  impossible  to  fix  an  exact  date  for 
the  writing  of  "  Edwin  and  Angelina,"  the  obvi- 
ous inference  is  that  it  must  have  been  written 
after  October  28,  1762,  and  consequently  did 
not  form  part  of  the  book  as  sold  to  Collins. 
Similarly,  the  "  Elegy  on  a  Mad  Dog,"  the 
scene  of  which  lies  at  Islington,  may  have  been 
written  there,  and  added  to  fill  up.  In  short, 
the  most  reasonable  supposition  is  that  Gold- 
1  Hawkins's  Life  of  Johnson,  17S7,  p-  430. 


142  Oliver  Goldsmith 

smith  had  practically  written  his  novel  when  he 
sold  it  to  Collins  and  Co.,  but  that  it  required 
expansion  to  make  up  the  "  two  volumes,  1 2mo," 
which  he  had  promised.  Probably  —  as  men 
do  with  work  that  has  been  paid  for — he  put 
off  making  the  necessary  additions,  and  ulti- 
mately stopped  a  gap  with  "  Edwin  and  Ange- 
lina," which  he  had  written  in  the  interim. 
This,  by  the  way,  would  supply  a  new  reason 
for  the  private  printing  of  the  ballad,  namely, 
that  Goldsmith  wanted  to  use  it,  or  had  already 
used  it,  in  the  forthcoming  "  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field." In  any  case,  even  when  the  novel  was 
published,  it  does  not  seem  to  have  been  quite 
completed.  Criticism  has  pointed  out  that  it 
contains  references  showing  that  additions  were 
intended  which  were  never  made.  This  is  ex- 
actly v/hat  happens  when  a  work  is  sold  before  it 
is  fully  finished.  Moreover,  it  has  been  noticed 
by  a  writer  in  the  Aihenceiim,  on  inspection  of 
the  first  issue,  that,  even  with  the  assumed  addi- 
tions, the  printers  had  evidently  hard  work  to 
make  up  the  required  two  volumes.  This,  and 
the  difficulty  of  getting  the  author  to  supply  the 
requisite  "copy,"  may  indeed  be  the  true  solu- 
tion of  that  long  delay  to  publish,  which  has  sur- 
prised so  many  of  Goldsmith's  biographers. 
Of  the  "  Vicar"  itself  it  is  happily  not  neces- 


A  Memoir  143 

sary  to  give  any  detailed  account,  still  less  to 
illustrate  its  beauties  by  what  Mr.  Lowell  has 
somewhere  called  the  Boeotian  method  of  ex- 
tract. Dr.  Primrose  and  his  wife,  Olivia  and 
Sophia,  Moses  with  his  white  stockings  and 
black  ribbon,  Mr.  Burchell  and  his  immortal 
"  Fudge,"  My  Lady  Blarney  and  Miss  Caro- 
lina Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs  —  have  all  be- 
come household  words.  The  family  picture  that 
could  not  be  got  into  the  house  when  it  was 
painted  ;  the  colt  that  was  sold  for  a  gross  of 
green  spectacles  ;  the  patter  about  Sanchonia- 
thon,  Manetho,  Berosus,  and  Ocellus  Lucanus, 
with  the  other  humours  of  Mr.  Ephraim  Jenkin- 
son  —  these  are  part  of  our  stock  speech  and 
current  illustration.  Whether  the  book  is  still 
much  read  it  would  be  hard  to  say,  for  when  a 
work  has,  so  to  speak,  entered  into  the  blood 
of  a  literature,  it  is  often  more  recollected 
and  transmitted  by  oral  tradition  than  actually 
studied.  But  in  spite  of  the  inconsistencies  of 
the  plot,  and  the  incoherencies  of  the  story,  it 
remains,  and  will  continue  to  be,  one  of  the  first 
of  our  English  classics.  Its  sweet  humanity, 
its  simplicity,  its  wisdom  and  its  common-sense, 
its  happy  mingling  of  character  and  Christianity, 
will  keep  it  sweet  long  after  more  ambitious, 
and  in  many  respects  abler,  works  have  found 


144  Oliver  Goldsmith 

their  level   with   the   great   democracy  of  the 
forgotten. 

It  is  the  property  of  a  masterpiece  to  gather 
about  it  a  literature  of  illustration  and  interpreta- 
tion, especially  when,  as  in  the  present  case,  its 
origin  is  unusually  obscure,  "With  the  bulk  of 
this  it  would  be  impossible  to  deal  here.  But 
a  recent  speculation  respecting  the  reasons  for 
the  choice  of  Wakefield  as  the  locality  of  the 
tale  (at  all  events  at  the  outset),  deserves  a  few 
sentences.  Joseph  Cradock,  one  of  Goldsmith's 
later  friends,  had  a  story  that  the  "  Vicar"  was 
written  to  defray  the  expenses  of  a  visit  to  Wake- 
field. How  irreconcilable  this  is  with  the  other 
accounts  is  self-evident.  But  it  is  not  impossi- 
ble that  an  actual  tour  in  Yorkshire  may  have 
suggested  some  of  the  names  and  incidents. 
This  idea  was  worked  out  with  great  ingenuity 
by  the  late  Mr.  Edward  Ford,  of  Enfield.^ 
Starting  from  Wakefield,  he  identified  the  "  small 
cure  "  seventy  miles  off,  to  which  Dr.  Primrose 
moves  in  chap,  iii.,  vol.  i.,  with  Kirkby  Moor- 
side  in  the  North  Riding.  This  point  estab- 
lished, Welbridge  Fair,  where  Moses  sells  the 
colt  (chap.  xii.  and  chap,  vi.,  vol.  ii.),  easily 
becomes  Welburn  ;  Thornhill  Castle,  a  few 
miles  further,  stands  for  Helmsley  ;  "  the  wells" 
1  National  Review,  May,  1883. 


A  Memoir  145 

(chap,  xviii.)  for  Harrogate,  and  "the  races" 
(ibid.)  for  Doncaster.  The  "■  rapid  stream  "  in 
chap,  iii.,  where  Sophia  was  nearly  drowned, 
he  conjectures  to  have  been  near  the  confluence 
of  the  Swale  and  Ouse  at  Boroughbridge, 
"within  thirty  miles  "  (p.  21)  of  Kirkby  Moor- 
side  ;  and  the  county  gaol  in  chap,  v.,  vol.  ii., 
he  places  "  eleven  miles  off""  (p.  86)  at  Picker- 
ing. But  for  the  further  details  of  this  attrac- 
tive if  inconclusive  inquiry,  as  well  as  the 
conjectural  identification  of  Sir  William  Thorn- 
hill,  with  the  equally  eccentric  Sir  George 
Savile,  and  of  the  travelling  limner  of  chap,  xvi., 
vol.  i.,  with  Romney  the  artist,  the  reader  is 
referred  to  the  article  itself. 

The  first  edition  of  the  "  "Vicar,"  it  will  be 
remembered,  was  published  on  March  27,  1766. 
A  second  edition,  containing  some  minor  modi- 
fications, one  of  the  most  important  of  which 
was  the  reiteration,  with  great  effect,  of  Mr. 
Burchell's  famous  comment,  followed  in  May, 
and  a  third  in  August.  In  the  same  year  there 
were  also  two  unauthorised  reprints  of  the 
first  edition,  one  of  which  was  published  at 
Dublin,  the  other  in  London.  After  this  there 
seems  to  have  been  a  lull  in  the  demand,  for 
the  fourth  edition  is  dated  1770;  and,  accord- 
ing to  Collins's  books,  started  with  a  loss.  The 
10 


146  Oliver  Goldsmith 

profits  of  this  seem  to  have  been  so  doubtful 
that,  before  the  fifth  edition  appeared,  Collins 
sold  his  third  share  to  one  of  his  colleagues  for 
five  guineas.  The  fifth  edition,  which  did  not 
actually  appear  until  April,  1774,  is  dated  1773. 
This  would  indicate  that  the  previous  issue  was 
not  exhausted  until  early  in  the  following  year. 
The  sixth  edition  is  dated  1779.  Thus,  assum- 
ing the  fifth  to  have  been,  like  the  fourth  edition, 
limited  to  one  thousand  copies,  it  took  nearly 
nine  years  to  sell  two  thousand  copies.  No  rival 
of  any  importance  was  in  the  field,  until,  in  1778, 
Miss  Burney  published  her  "  Evelina  ;  "  and 
the  languor  of  the  sale  must  be  attributed  to 
some  temporary  suspension  of  public  interest 
in  the  "  Vicar."  Meanwhile,  translations  into 
French  and  German,  to  be  followed  in  due  time 
by  translations  into  almost  every  European  lan- 
guage,^ were  laying  the  foundation  of  its  cos- 
mopolitan reputation,  and  its  modern  admirers 
still  take  pleasure  in  recollecting  that  among  the 
most  famous  of  their  predecessors  was  Goethe. 
"  It  is  not  to  be  described,"  he  wrote  to  Zelter 
in  1830,  "  the  effect  which  Goldsmith's  '  Vicar' 

1  "  A  Bibliographical  List  of  Editions  of  '  The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield'  published  in  England  and  abroad,"  is 
prefixed  to  Elliot  SiocM!  s  facsimile  reprint  of  1885,  pp. 
xxii-xxxix. 


A  Memoir  147 

had  upon  me  Just  at  the  critical  moment  of 
mental  development.  That  lofty  and  benevolent 
irony,  that  fair  and  indulgent  view  of  all  infirmi- 
ties and  faults,  that  meekness  under  all  calami- 
ties, that  equanimity  under  all  changes  and 
chances,  and  the  whole  train  of  kindred  virtues, 
whatever  names  they  bear,  proved  my  best 
education  ;  and  in  the  end,  these  are  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  which  have  reclaimed  us  from  all 
the  errors  of  life."^ 

^  See  also  AIiscella7iies,  by  the  present  Author,  189S, 
pp.  165-182,  for  a  paper  on  "  The  '  Vicar  of  Wakefield' 
and  its  Illustrators." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

"The  Vicar"  and  "The  Traveller"  as  investments;  transla- 
tion of  Forniey's  "  History  of  Philosophy  and  Philosophers  " 
published,  June,  1766;  "Poems  for  Young  Ladies"  pub- 
lished, December  15;  English  Grammar  written;  "  Beauties 
of  English  Poesy"  published,  April,  1767;  letter  to  the  5/. 
James's  Chronicle,  July;  living  at  Canonbury  House;  at  the 
Temple;  visited  by  Parson  Scott;  "Roman  History";  the 
Wednesday  Club ;  popularity  of  genteel  comedy ;  plans  a 
play ;  story  of  '•  The  Good  Natur'd  Man  ;  "  its  production  at 
Covent  Garden,  January  29,  1768  ;  its  reception ;  Goldsmith 
on  the  first  night;  his  gains;  Davies  on  the  dramatis  per- 
soncB ;  Johnson  on  Goldsmith. 

r^  OLDSMITH'S  biographers  have  laid  stress 
^-^  upon  the  fact  that  there  is  no  record 
of  any  payment  to  him  for  the  "  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,"  subsequent  to  that  original  sixty 
pounds,  or  guineas,  whereof  mention  was  made 
in  the  foregoing  chapter;  and  they  have  not 
failed  to  remark,  with  a  certain  air  of  righteous 
indignation,  that,  on  May  24,  1766,  close  upon 
the  publication  of  the  second  edition,  a  bill 
drawn  by  him  upon  John  Newbery  for  fifteen 
guineas   was  returned  dishonoured.     Some  in- 


A  Memoir  149 

dignation  would  be  intelligible,  and  perhaps 
justifiable,  had  the  book  been  a  pecuniary  suc- 
cess, which,  of  course,  was  their  assumption,  — 
an  assumption  based  upon  the  rapid  appearance 
of  three  editions.  But,  if  Collins's  accounts 
are  to  be  accepted,  and  the  chief  objection  to 
them  is  their  contradiction  of  time-honoured 
traditions,  the  "  Vicar,"  in  spite  of  those  three 
issues  (of  how  many  copies  we  are  ignorant), 
was  not  paying  its  proprietors,  —  in  other 
words,  they  had  not  yet  recovered  the  ^60  they 
had  laid  out  upon  the  manuscript.  No  other 
interpretation  can  be  placed  upon  the  statement 
of  Mr.  Welsh,  who  says,  "  The  fourth  edition 
[of  1770]  started  with  a  balance  against  it.^ 
This  being  so,  no  ground  existed  for  any  gener- 
osity from  the  proprietors  to  the  author.  On 
the  other  hand,  "  The  Traveller  "  was  a  success. 
It  had  reached  a  fourth  edition  in  August,  1765, 
and  in  a  memorandum  by  Goldsmith  printed  by 
Prior,  and  dated  June  7,  1766,  there  is  an  item 
of  £,2\  for  "The  Traveller."  It  is  scarcely 
possible  that  this  can  refer  to  the  first  payment 
made  as  far  back  as  1764,  and  it  may  therefore 
be  assumed,  not  unreasonably,  that  it  was  an 
additional  payment  arising  out  of  the  success  of 
the  poem.  If  this  be  the  case,  the,  circum- 
1  A  Bookseller  of  the  Last  Century,  1885,  p.  61. 


150  Oliver  Goldsmith 

stances  as  regards  the  two  books  become 
perfectly  logical,  and  neither  surprise  nor  indig- 
nation is  called  for.  The  fourth  edition  of  "  The 
Vicar"  started  with  a  loss,  and  there  were  no 
profits  for  anybody  ;  the  fourth  edition  of  "  The 
Traveller"  had  paid  its  expenses  with  a  fair 
surplus,  and  there  was  a  bonus  of  twenty 
guineas  for  the  author. 

But  a  dubious  twenty-guinea  bonus  upon  the 
sale  of  a  popular  poem  is  scarcely  opulence,  and 
Goldsmith  was  still  obliged  to  depend  upon  the 
old  "book-building."  Between  the  appearance 
of  the  second  and  third  editions  of  the  "  Vicar," 
there  was  issued  by  the  "Vicar's"  publisher, 
Francis  Newbery,  a  translation  of  a  "  History 
of  Philosophy  and  Philosophers,"  by  M.  For- 
mey  of  Berlin,  whose  "  Philosophical  Miscel- 
lanies "  Goldsmith  had  reviewed  for  Smollett  in 
The  Critical  Review.  For  this,  in  pursuance  of 
some  occult  arrangement  between  the  New- 
berys,  John  Newbery  paid  —  the  sum  being 
£20.  Later  in  the  year  Goldsmith  prepared 
for  Payne  of  Paternoster  Row,  but  without  his 
name  as  editor,  a  selection  of  "  Poems  for 
Young  Ladies,"  the  "Moral"  department  of 
which  led  off  with  his  own  "  Edwin  and  Ange- 
lina," a  circumstance  which  lends  a  certain 
piquancy  to  the  artless  statement  in  the  preface 


A  Memoir  151 

that  '*  every  poem  in  the  following  collection 
would  singly  have  procured  an  author  great 
reputation."  Following  hard  upon  the  publica- 
tion of  this  in  December,  comes  the  record  of  a 
"  short  English  Grammar"  for  Newbery  ;  and 
then  was  prepared  for  Griffin  "  The  Beauties  of 
English  Poesy,"  in  two  volumes,  for  which  selec- 
tion, with  the  addition  of  his  name  on  the  title- 
page,  he  was  paid  £S'^,  or  only  £\o  less  than 
the  sum  he  obtained  for  the  "  Vicar,"  an  original 
work.  His  "  original  work"  in  this  was  con- 
fined to  a  preface,  and  brief  introductory  notes. 
But  the  success  of  this  otherwise  excellent 
anthology  was  prejudiced  considerably  by  the 
presence  in  it  of  two  of  Prior's  most  hazardous 
pieces,  the  "  Ladle"  and  "  Hans  Carvel,"  an 
intrusion  all  the  more  unwarrantable,  because 
Prior's  somewhat  meagre  individuality  was 
already  sufficiently  represented  by  his  poem  of 
"  Alma." 

Not  many  months  after  the  publication  of  the 
"  Beauties,"  and  prompted,  it  may  be,  by  the 
reappearance  of  '•  Edwin  and  Angelina,"  in 
tlie  "  Poems  for  Young  Ladies,"  Kenrick,  Gold- 
smith's successor  on  The  Monthly  Review,  and 
his  persistent  assailant,  took  occasion  to  bring 
against  him  a  charge  of  gross  plagiarism.  A 
letter  signed  "Detector"  appeared  in  the  Si. 


152  Oliver  Goldsmith 

James's  Chronicle  in  which  he  was  accused  of 
taking"  The  Hermit"  ("  Edwin  and  Angelina") 
direct  from  Percy's  "  Friar  of  Orders  Gray," 
with  this  difference  only,  that  he  had  substituted 
"languid  smoothness"  and  "tedious  para- 
phrase "  for  the  "natural  simplicity  and  tender- 
ness of  the  original."  Several  of  the  stanzas  in 
the  "  Friar"  are  the  beautiful  snatches  sung  by 
Ophelia  in  her  insanity,  and  Goldsmith  might 
well  have  been  absolved  from  improving  upon 
them.  But  to  the  general  charge  of  theft  he 
replied  conclusively  in  a  letter  to  the  Chronicle, 
of  which  the  following  is  the  material  portion  : 
"  Another  Correspondent  of  yours  accuses  me 
of  having  taken  a  Ballad,  I  published  some  Time 
ago,  from  one  by  the  ingenious  Mr.  Percy.  I 
do  not  think  there  is  any  great  Resemblance 
between  the  two  Pieces  in  Question.  If  there 
be  any,  his  Ballad  is  taken  from  mine.  I  read 
it  to  Mr.  Percy  some  Years  ago,  and  he  (as 
we  both  considered  these  Things  as  Trifles  at 
best)  told  me,  with  his  usual  Good  Humour, 
the  next  Time  I  saw  him,  that  he  had  taken  my 
Plan  to  form  the  fragments  of  Shakespeare  into 
a  Ballad  of  his  own.  He  then  read  me  his 
little  Cento,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  and  I  highly 
approved  it.  Such  petty  Anecdotes  as  these  are 
scarce  worth  printing,  and  were  it  not  for  the 


A  Memoir  153 

busy  Disposition  of  some  of  your  Correspon- 
dents, the  Publick  should  never  have  known 
that  he  owes  me  the  Hint  of  his  Ballad,  or  that 
I  am  obliged  to  his  Friendship  and  Learning  for 
Communications  of  a  much  more  important 
Nature."^  The  reply  is  perfect  in  tone,  and 
shows  once  more  how  unfailing  was  Goldsmith's 
skill  when  he  took  pen  in  hand.  Percy,  it  may 
be  added,  confirmed  this  story,  with  but  little 
variation,  in  a  note  which  he  appended  to  the 
"  Friar  of  Orders  Gray  "  in  the  1775  edition  of 
the  "  Reliques,"  and  also  in  the  '*  Memoir  "of 
Goldsmith,  prefixed  to  the  "  Miscellaneous 
Works  "  of  i8oi. 

About  the  middle  of  1767  Goldsmith  seems  to 
have  again  taken  up  his  residence  at  Islington, 
and  this  time  it  is  definitely  asserted  that  he 
lived  in  Canonbury  House.  The  old  tower  of 
Queen  Elizabeth's  hunting  lodge  was  a  favourite 
summer  resort  of  literary  men,  publishers,  and 
printers,  and,  as  already  stated,  John  Newbery 
himself,  who  died  in  December  of  this  year, 
was  one  of  its  most  frequent  inmates.  Indeed, 
some  last  business  instructions  drawn  up  by  him 
in  November  are  dated  "  Canbury  House,"  and 
the  notice  of  his  death  in  The  Public  Advertiser 
affirms  that  it  actually  occurred  there.  But 
1  St.  James's  Chronicle,  July  23-5,  1767. 


154  Oliver  Goldsmith 

whether  Goldsmith  now  occupied  that  "  upper 
story  so  commonly  devoted  to  poets,"  or 
tenanted,  either  on  his  own  account,  or  as 
Newbery's  substitute,  the  old  oak-panelled 
room  on  the  first  floor,  long  shown  to  visitors  as 
his,  history  sayeth  not  with  any  certainty.  That 
he  attended,  and  occasionally  presided  at  a  club, 
largely  recruited  from  the  lettered  and  quasi- 
lettered  occupants  of  Canonbury  Tower,  which 
was  held  at  the  Crown  Tavern  in  the  Islington 
Lower  Road,  may  be  more  safely  assumed. 
When  in  London,  he  occupied  new  quarters  in 
the  Temple,  to  which  he  had  moved  from  his 
old  home  in  Fleet  Street.  These  were  in  Gar- 
den Court,  an  address  that  figures  at  the  head 
of  one  of  his  letters  to  Colman,  dated  July  the 
19th,  and  hence,  in  all  probability,  he  penned 
his  letter  to  the  Chronicle.  According  to  Prior 
his  apartments  were  on  the  library  staircase,  and 
he  shared  them  with  one  Jeffs,  butler  to  the 
Society.  Consequently  there  is  no  record  of 
his  residence  in  the  books.  Nor  is  there  any 
record  of  the  somewhat  superior  lodging  in 
King's  Bench  Walks  to  which  he  removed  a 
little  later,  where  he  was  again,  apparently,  the 
tenant  of  a  private  owner.  Neither  of  these 
retreats  was  of  imposing  character,  and  Gold- 
smith's ready  susceptibility  took  alarm  when  he 


A  Memoir  155 

saw  Johnson  blinking  about,  in  his  short-sighted 
way,  at  his  friend's  environment.  "  I  shall  soon 
be  in  better  chambers  than  these,"  he  said, 
apologetically.  But  his  sturdy  old  mentor  was 
down  upon  him  at  once  with  a  "  Nay,  Sir,  never 
mind  that:  Nil  te  qucesiveris  extra.'' ^ 

To  another  of  his  Temple  visitors  Goldsmith 
behaved  with  greater  dignity.  Towards  the  close 
of  this  same  year  of  1767  an  attempt  was  made 
to  enlist  his  pen  in  the  service  of  that  "  party,"  to 
which,  in  the  "  dedication  "of"  The  Traveller," 
he  had  referred  as  one  of  the  enemies  of  his  art. 
The  North  Administration,  harassed  by  Wilkes, 
and  goadedby  the  far  more  terrible  "Junius," 
was  casting  about  helplessly  for  literary  cham- 
pions, and  overtures  were  accordingly  made  to 
Goldsmith  by  Sandwich's  chaplain.  Parson  Scott, 
known  to  the  contemporary  caricaturist  as 
"  Twitcher's  Advocate,"  a  title  he  had  earned 
by  his  support  of  his  patron  under  the  nom  de 
guerre  of  Anli-Sejaniis.  Scott  had  already 
reaped  the  benefit  of  his  "venal  pen"  by  pre- 
sentation to  the  living  of  Simonburn,  in  North- 
umberland, and  appointment  as  Chaplain  of 
Greenwich  Hospital.  The  sequel  of  his  visit  to 
Goldsmith  may  be  told  in  his  own  words:  "  I 
found  him,"  said  Dr.  Scott  to  Basil  Montagu, 
1  Hill's  Boswell's  Jolinson,  1887,  iv,  27. 


156  Oliver  Goldsmith 

"  in  a  miserable  set  of  chambers  in  the  Temple. 
I  told  him  my  authority  ;  I  told  him  that  I  was 
empowered  to  pay  most  liberally  for  his  exer- 
tions ;  and,  would  you  believe  it  I  he  was  so 
absurd  as  to  say,  '  I  can  earn  as  much  as  will 
supply  my  wants  without  writing  for  any  party  ; 
the  assistance  you  offer  is  therefore  unnecessary 
to  me.'  And  so  I  left  him,"  added  Dr.  Scott, 
"in  his  garret."^  The  contempt  of  the  pros- 
perous timeserver  was  to  be  anticipated,  though 
Goldsmith's  admirers  will  doubtless  take  a  dif- 
ferent view  of  the  matter. 

But  when  Goldsmith  told  Lord  North's  emis- 
sary that  he  was  earning  enough  for  his  wants, 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  statement,  like  his 
earlier  announcement  to  Beatty  of  his  prosperity 
as  a  physician  in  Southwark,  was  a  palpable 
exaggeration.  Of  lucrative  work  during  1767 
there  is  scant  indication.  What  he  did  for  his 
old  employer,  Newbery,  amounted  to  little  ; 
and  Newbery,  it  has  been  shown,  was  ill  or  dy- 
ing in  the  latter  months  of  this  year.  Yet  a  turn 
for  the  better  was  coming  in  Goldsmith's  life, 
and  during  part  of  1766  and  1767  he  had  been 
engaged  in  a  new  enterprise,  of  which  an  ac- 
count will  presently  be  given.  In  addition, 
about  this  time,  a  somewhat  more  prosperous 
^  Forster's  Life,  1877,  ii,  71. 


A  Memoir  157 

way  of  compilation  was  opened  by  a  proposal 
of  the  bookseller,  Thomas  Davies,  whose 
"  very  pretty  wife  "  is  celebrated  in  the  verse  of 
Churchill.  Davies  had  been  shrewd  enough  to 
observe  that  the  "Letters  from  a  Nobleman  to 
his  Son  "  of  two  years  before,  still  freely  given 
to  literary  lords  like  Chesterfield  and  Orrery, 
had  lost  none  of  their  real  popularity  or  their 
fictitious  prestige,  and  he  hit  upon  the  happy 
idea  of  proposing  to  Goldsmith  to  write  a 
Roman  History  upon  the  same  pattern.  The 
honorarium  was  to  be  two  hundred  and  fifty 
guineas.  There  were  to  be  two  volumes,  to  be 
finished  in  two  years  or  less.  As  the  book 
was  published  in  May,  1769,  it  must  be  as- 
sumed that  it  had,  or  should  have,  begun  to 
employ  Goldsmith  actively  in  the  later  months 
of  1767. 

There  is  little  record  of  his  other  occupations. 
Doubtless,  when  in  London,  he  was  assiduous 
in  his  attendance  at  the  Turk's  Head,  in  Gerrard 
Street,  on  the  Mondays  when  the  club  held  its 
sittings.  But  he  was  probably  more  at  home 
in  resorts  like  the  Crown,  in  the  Islington 
Lower  Road,  where  the  company  was  less  pre- 
tentious. One  of  these  "free  and  easys,"  de- 
scribed by  Mr.  Forster  from  the  manuscript 
notes  of  a  certain  William  Ballantyne,  lent  to 


158  Oliver  Goldsmith 

him  by  Mr.  Bolton  Corney,  went  by  the  name 
of  the  "  Wednesday  Club,"  and  was  held  at  the 
Globe  Tavern,  in  Fleet  Street.  Among  its 
frequenters  were  several  of  Goldsmith's  country- 
men —  Glover,  a  doctor  and  actor  ;  Thompson, 
who  edited  Andrew  Marvel ;  and  Hugh  Kelly, 
a  staymaker  turned  rhymester,  who  was  imitat- 
ing Churchill's  "  Rosciad "  in  a  poem  called 
"  Thespis,"  and  was  shortly  to  become  the 
pillar  of  sentimental  comedy.  Of  the  other 
members  chronicled  in  Ballantyne's  notes,  the 
most  memorable  was  a  Mr.  Gordon,  a  huge 
man,  whom,  to  use  Falstaff's  words,  "sighing 
and  grief  had  blown  up  like  a  bladder,"  and  who 
used  to  delight  Goldsmith  by  singing  a  thor- 
oughly appropriate  song,  called  "  Nottingham 
Ale."  But  it  was  noted,  even  at  this  time,  that 
the  old  fits  of  silence  and  depression,  which  his 
relatives  had  remarked  in  his  childhood,  still 
haunted  him.  "  He  has  often,"  says  Glover, 
"  left  a  party  of  convivial  friends  abruptly  in  the 
evening,  in  order  to  go  home  and  brood  over 
his  misfortunes."^  Washington  Irving's  more 
charitable  explanation  is,  that  he  went  home  to 
note  down  some  good  thing  for  his  forthcoming 
comedy.  But  the  hopes  and  fears  connected 
with  that  enterprise  were  of  themselves  sufficient 
^  Life  prefixed  to  Poems  and  Plays,  iT]"],  pp.  ix-x. 


A  Memoir  159 

to  cause  depression,  and  to  the  story  of  those 
hopes  and  fears  we  now  come. 

Goldsmith  had  always  been  a  fervent  lover  of 
the  stage.  As  already  stated,  there  are  tradi- 
tions that  he  had  composed  a  tragedy,  which  he 
had  submitted  in  manuscript  to  Richardson  ; 
and  in  the  "  Enquiry,"  The  Bee,  "The  Citizen 
of  the  World,"  and  even  in  the  "  Vicar,"  he  had 
frequently  expressed  his  opinions  upon  matters 
theatrical,  certainly  with  the  knowledge,  if  not 
of  a  dramatist,  at  least  of  a  shrewd  and  common- 
sense  critic.  At  this  date  what,  in  addition  to 
pantomime  and  spectacle,  found  most  favour 
in  England,  was  "genteel"  or  "sentimental 
comedy."  This  was  the  English  equivalent  for 
the  comeiie  serieuse  or  larmoyanle,  which,  initi- 
ated in  France  by  La  Chaussee,  had  recently 
been  most  happily  exemplified  in  that  country 
by  Sedaine's  Philosophe  sans  le  sapoir.  Accord- 
ing to  Diderot,  this  school  had  for  its  object 
not  so  much  the  satire  of  vice  as  the  glorifica- 
tion of  virtue — by  virtue  being  meant  more 
particularly  the  virtues  of  private  and  domestic 
life.  Steele,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century, 
had  attempted  something  of  the  kind  in  "  The 
Funeral"  and  "The  Lying  Lover";  but  the 
new  French  school,  whose  influence  was  now 
being  felt  on  this  side  the  Channel,  had  arisen 


i6o  Oliver  Goldsmith 

long  after  he  had  ceased  his  labours  as  a  drama- 
tist. Goldsmith's  views,  it  need  scarcely  be 
said,  were  entirely  opposed  to  the  prevailing 
fashion  of  comedy.  He  was,  he  tells  us, 
strongly  prepossessed  in  favour  of  the  authors 
of  the  last  age.  Nature  and  humour,  he  con- 
tended, in  whatever  walks  of  life  they  were 
most  conspicuous,  should  be  the  chief  ends  of 
the  playwright,  and  the  delineation  of  character 
his  principal  duty.  By  reason  of  the  ultra- 
refinement  and  insipid  unreality  of  the  new 
manner,  these  things,  in  his  opinion,  were  in  a 
fair  way  to  disappear  from  the  stage  altogether  ; 
and  when,  at  the  beginning  of  1766,  the  success 
ot  "  The  Clandestine  Marriage,"  which  Colman 
and  Garrick  had  adapted  from  Hogarth's  most 
famous  picture-drama,  seemed  to  promise  some 
chance  of  a  reaction  in  the  public  taste,  he 
straightway  set  to  work  upon  a  comedy  on  the 
elder  English  model.  He  appears  to  have 
wrought  at  it  during  1766,  in  the  intervals  of  his 
other  literary  work,  and  he  had  completed  it 
early  in  1767,  when  it  was  submitted  to  some  of 
his  friends,  who  approved  it.  Johnson  under- 
took to  write  a  prologue,  and  thereupon  began 
the  indispensable  and  traditionally  wearisome 
negotiations  for  getting  it  placed  upon  the 
boards. 


A  Memoir  i6i 

At  this  time  Garrick  was  manager  of  Drury 
Lane.  To  Garrick,  however,  Goldsmith  had 
not  intended  to  apply.  He  knew  that  he  had 
offended  the  all-powerful  actor  by  certain  pas- 
sages still  on  record  in  the  "  Enquiry,"  and 
Garrick  had  shown  his  sense  of  this  by  refusing 
his  vote  when  Goldsmith  was  a  candidate  for 
the  secretaryship  of  the  Royal  Society.  Un- 
happily, owing  to  the  death  of  its  manager  Rich, 
the  affairs  of  the  rival  theatre  of  Covent  Gar- 
den were  in  temporary  confusion.  Goldsmith 
had  therefore  no  choice  but  to  address  himself 
to  Garrick,  and  Reynolds  arranged  a  meeting 
between  them  at  his  house.  As  may  be  antici- 
pated, it  was  not  entirely  satisfactory.  Gold- 
smith was  sensitive  and  consequential ;  Garrick 
courteous,  but  cautious.  Nevertheless,  there 
was  an  indefinite  understanding  that  the  play 
should  be  acted.  The  manager  seems  subse- 
quently to  have  blown  hot  and  cold  according 
to  his  wont.  In  reality,  he  did  not  like  the 
piece,  and  he  privately  told  Reynolds  and  John- 
son that  he  thought  it  would  not  succeed.  To 
the  author  he  was  not  equally  frank,  and  thus 
misunderstandings  multiplied.  Meanwhile  the 
theatrical  season  slipped  away,  and  Goldsmith, 
who  had  counted  upon  the  pecuniary  profits  of 
his  work,    grew  impatient.     Finally   he   asked 


i62  Oliver  Goldsmith 

for  an  advance  upon  a  note  of  the  younger 
Newbery.  This  was  readily  granted  ;  but  the 
boon  was  followed  up  by  suggestions  for  altera- 
tions and  omissions  in  the  play  —  alterations 
and  omissions  which,  it  is  unnecessary  to  say, 
were  anything  but  palatable  to  the  author. 
Arbitration  was  next  spoken  of,  and,  in  this 
connection,  "William  "Whitehead,  a  man  of  very 
inferior  calibre,  whom  Garrick  occasionally 
employed  as  his  reader,  was  named.  There- 
upon, says  Mr.  Forster,  "  a  dispute  of  so  much 
vehemence  and  anger  ensued,  that  the  services 
of  Burke  as  well  as  Reynolds  were  needed  to 
moderate  the  disputants." 

But  a  sudden  change  in  the  state  of  affairs 
at  the  rival  house,  fortunately  opened  the  way 
to  a  solution  of  these  protracted  differences. 
Colman,  by  a  sequence  of  circumstances  which 
do  not  belong  to  these  pages,  became  one  of 
the  patentees  of  Covent  Garden ;  and  Gold- 
smith seized  the  opportunity  for  offering  him  his 
comedy.  He  promptly  received  an  encouraging 
reply.  Forthwith  he  wrote  to  Garrick  stating 
what  he  had  done  ;  and  in  return  was  gratified 
with  one  of  those  formally  cordial  responses  in 
which  the  actor  was  an  adept.  But  he  had  not 
yet  reached  the  end  of  his  troubles.  It  was  in 
July,   1767,  that  he  wrote  to  Colman,  and  his 


A  Memoir  163 

comedy  could  not  be  produced  until  Christmas. 
In  the  interval  further  complications  arose. 
Garrick,  already  in  hot  competition  with  Co- 
vent  Garden,  was,  naturally,  not  very  favourably 
disposed  to  its  newest  dramatic  writer ;  and  he 
accordingly,  in  opposition  to  Goldsmith's  comedy, 
of  which  we  may  now  speak  by  its  name  of 
"The  Good  Natur'd  Man,"  brought  forward 
Hugh  Kelly  with  a  characterless  sentimental 
drama  called  "  False  Delicacy."  Before  the 
end  of  the  year  the  "  whirligig  of  time  "  had 
reconciled  him  to  Colman,  and  one  result  of 
this  was,  that  the  latter,  whose  interest  in 
Goldsmith's  piece  had  meanwhile  somewhat 
cooled,  consented  tacitly  to  keep  back  "  The 
Good  Natur'd  Man"  until  "False  Delicacy" 
had  made  its  appearance.  So  it  befell  tliat,  in 
January,  1768,  when  "  The  Good  Natur'd 
Man "  was  going  slowly  through  its  last  re- 
hearsals, "  False  Delicacy"  came  out  at  Drury 
Lane  with  all  the  advantages  of  Garrick's  con- 
summate generalship.  A  few  days  later  "  The 
Good  Natur'd  Man  "  was  played  for  the  first 
time  at  Covent  Garden.  Johnson's  prologue 
turned  out  to  be  rather  dispiriting  ;  and  Powell, 
Garrick's  handsome  young  rival,  was,  as  the 
hero,  cold  and  unsympathetic.  On  the  other 
hand,  Shuter,  an  excellent  actor,  proved  inim- 


164  Oliver  Goldsmith 

itable  in  the  part  of  Croaker,  a  character 
planned  upon  the  "  Suspirius  "  o(  The  Rambler, 
while  Woodward  was  almost  equally  good  as 
the  charlatan,  Lofty.  The  success  of  the  piece, 
however,  was  only  qualified,  and  one  scene  of 
"  low  "  humour,  in  which  some  bailiffs  were  in- 
troduced, gave  so  much  offence,  that  it  was 
withdrawn  after  the  first  representation. 

Goldsmith,  who,  as  his  tailor's  bills  testify, 
had  attended  the  first  night  in  a  magnificent 
suit  of  "  Tyrian  bloom  satin  grain,  and  garter 
blue  silk  breeches,"^  and  whose  hopes  and 
fears  had  risen  and  fallen  many  times  during 
the  performance,  was  bitterly  disappointed. 
Nevertheless,  after  hurriedly  thanking  Shuter, 
he  went  away  to  the  club  in  Gerrard  Street, 
laughed  loudly,  made  believe  to  sup,  and  ulti- 
mately sang  his  own  particular  song.  Years 
afterwards,  however,  the  truth  leaked  out. 
Coming  back  one  day  from  dining  at  the  chap- 
lain's table  at  St.  James's,  Dr.  Johnson  told 
Mrs.  Thrale  that  Goldsmith  had  been  giving 
"  a  very  comical  and  unnecessarily  exact  recital 
there  of  his  own  feelings  when  his  play  was 
hissed."  He  had  told  "  the  company  how  he 
went  indeed  to  the  Literary  Club  at  night,  and 
chatted  gaily  among  his  friends,  as  if  nothing 
1  Forster's  Lifi,  1877,  ii,  112. 


A  Memoir  165 

had  happened  amiss  ;  that  to  impress  them  still 
more  forcibly  with  an  idea  of  his  magnanimity, 
he  even  sung  his  favourite  song  about  an  old 
woman  tossed  in  a  blanket  seventeen  times  as 
high  as  the  moon,  but  all  this  while  I  was  suf- 
fering horrid  tortures  (said  he),  and  verily 
believe  that  if  I  had  put  a  bit  in  my  mouth  it 
would  have  strangled  me  on  the  spot,  I  was  so 
excessively  ill ;  but  I  made  more  noise  than 
usual  to  cover  all  that,  and  so  they  never  per- 
ceived my  not  eating,  nor,  I  believe,  imaged 
to  themselves  the  anguish  of  my  heart ;  but 
when  all  were  gone    except  Johnson   here,    I 

burst  out  a-crying,  and  even  swore  by that 

I  would  never  write  again.  '  All  which.  Doc- 
tor (says  Mr.  Johnson,  amazed  at  his  odd  frank- 
ness), I  thought  had  been  a  secret  between  you 
and  me  !  and  I  am  sure  I  would  not  have  said 
anything  about  it  for  the  world.'  "  "  No  man," 
added  Johnson,  commenting  upon  his  own 
story,  *'  should  be  expected  to  sympathise  with 
the  sorrows  of  vanity."^  And  then  he  went  on 
to  make  some  further  remarks  upon  the  subject 
which  show  once  more  how  much  easier  are 
precepts  than  practice. 

"The  Good  Natur'd  Man"  was  played  for 
ten  consecutive  nights,   being   commanded    on 
1  Hill's  'jfohnsoniaii  Miscellanies,  1897,  i,  311-12. 


1 66  Oliver  Goldsmith 

the  fifth  by  their  Majesties.  The  third,  the 
sixth,  and  the  ninth  nights  were  appropriated  to 
the  author.  By  these  he  made  about  ;^400,  to 
which  the  sale  of  the  play  in  book  form  with  the 
suppressed  bailiff  scene  restored  added  another 
^100.  It  seems  clear,  notwithstanding,  that 
the  play  was  not  such  a  success  as  it  deserved 
to  be  ;  and  that  much  was  done  to  protract  its 
brief  life  by  the  author's  friends.  The  taste  for 
sentimental  comedy,  in  fact,  was  still  too  strong 
to  be  overcome.  Yet,  as  Davies  points  out, 
and  Davies  as  a  former  actor  is  an  authority, 
"The  Good  Natur'd  Man"  contains  "two 
characters  absolutely  unknown  before  to  the 
English  stage;  a  man  [Lofty]  who  boasts  an 
intimacy  with  persons  of  high  rank  whom  he 
never  saw,  and  another,  who  is  almost  always 
lamenting  misfortunes  he  never  knew.  Croaker 
[he  asserts]  is  as  strongly  designed,  and  as 
highly  finished  a  portrait  of  a  discontented  man, 
of  one  who  disturbs  every  happiness  he  pos- 
sesses, from  apprehension  of  distant  evil,  as  any 
character  of  Congreve,  or  any  other  of  our 
English  dramatists."  ^  It  has  already  been  said 
that  the  character  of  Croaker  was  built  upon  a 
sketch  by  Johnson  in  The  Rambler.  Once 
when  Mrs.  Thrale  and  Miss  Burney  were  read- 

1  Life  of  David  Garrick,   1780,  ii,  1 48-9. 


A  Memoir  167 

ing  this  particular  paper  at  Streatham,  Johnson 
came  upon  them.  "  Ah,  madam,"  said  he, 
"  Goldsmith  was  not  scrupulous  ;  but  he  would 
have  been  a  great  man  had  he  known  the  real 
value  of  his  own  internal  resources."  ^ 

^  Mme.  D'Arblay's  Diary,  1892,  i,  38. 


CHAPTER    IX 

Moves  to  2,  Brick  Court,  Middle  Temple ;  relaxations  and  fes- 
tivities; the  Seguin  recollections;  death  of  Henry  Goldsmith; 
begins  "  The  Deserted  Village  ;  "  methods  of  poetical  com- 
position; "Shoemaker's  Holidays;"  Goldsmith's  compan- 
ions; "  The  Shoemaker's  Paradise"  at  Edgeware;  Mr.  Bott, 
the  barrister;  old  compilations  and  new;  epilogue  to  Mrs. 
Lennox's  "Sister";  a  dinner  at  Boswell's;  appointed  Pro- 
fessor of  History  to  the  Royal  Academy,  December;  letter  to 
Maurice  Goldsmith,  January;  portrait  painted  by  Reynolds; 
"The  Deserted  Village"  published,  May  26,  1770;  depopu- 
lation theory  ;  identity  of  Auburn  and  Lissoy  ;  enduring  quali- 
ties of  the  poem;  farewell  to  poetry;  amount  received  by 
author. 

**  T^HE  Good  Natur'd  Man,"  we  have  seen, 
-*•  left  Goldsmith  the  richer  by  ^)00. 
With  this  sum,  it  may  be  thought,  he  should 
have  rested  upon  his  oars,  or,  at  all  events,  have 
raised  some  provisional  barrier  against  the  in- 
roads of  necessity.  As  it  v^as,  not  being  by  any 
means  an  exceptional  member  of  society,  he  at 
once  invested  the  greater  part  of  it  in  purchas- 
ing the  lease  of  fresh  chambers.  His  old  quar- 
ters, looked  at  by  the  light  of  his  good  fortune. 
had  grown  too  narrow  for  his  importance  ;  and 


A  Memoir  169 

he  consequently  moved  to  a  second  floor  at  No. 
2,  Brick  Court,  Middle  Temple,  where  he  had 
a  couple  of  "  reasonably-sized  old-fashioned 
rooms,  with  a  third  smaller  room  or  sleeping- 
closet."  ^  Here  he  lived  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 
According  to  Cook,  the  sum  he  paid  for  the 
lease  was  ^400,  and  from  the  catalogue  of  the 
sale  of  his  effects  after  his  death,  he  must  have 
laid  out  a  good  deal  more  in  furnishing  his  new 
residence  sumptuously.  Wilton  carpets,  "  blue 
morine  festoon  window-curtains  compleat," 
Pembroke  tables,  "  a  very  large  dressing-glass," 
and  his  friend  Sir  Joshua's  "Tragic  Muse,  in  a 
gold  frame,"  —  to  say  nothing  of  complete  tea 
and  card  equipages  —  can  have  left  but  little 
unexpended  of  the  balance  that  remained.  The 
step  thus  taken  was  clearly  not  a  wise  one  ;  and 
Goldsmith  would  have  done  better  to  respect 
the  Nil  te  qucesiveris  extra  of  Johnson.  For  he 
had  not  only  to  live  in  his  new  chambers  ;  but 
he  had  also  to  live  up  to  them  ;  and  here  began, 
or  was  further  perplexed,  that  tangled  mesh  of 
money  difficulties  from  which  he  was  hardly  ever 
afterwards  to  shake  himself  free. 

In  the  meantime  he  seems  to  have  "  hung  his 
crane "  at  Brick  Court  with  all   the   honours. 
There  are  traditions  of  suppers  and  dinners  and 
1    Forster's  Life,  1877,  ii,  105. 


170  Oliver  Goldsmith 

card  parties,  at  which,  to  use  the  formula  of  Dr. 

Primrose,  whatever  the  quality  of  the  wit,  there 
was  assuredly  plenty  of  laughter.  Blackstone, 
who  occupied  the  rooms  immediately  below,  is 
said  to  have  been  disturbed  in  the  preparation  of 
his  "Commentaries"  by  the  sounds  of  hilarity 
overhead  ;  and  his  successor,  a  Mr.  Children, 
also  testified  to  similar  manifestations  of  the 
festive  spirit  of  his  neighbour  above-stairs. 
The  chief  witness  to  these  entertainments  is  an 
Irish  gentleman  named  Seguin,  who,  about  this 
date,  made  Goldsmith's  acquaintance.  The 
poet  was  godfather  to  Seguin's  children,  and  his 
recollections,  preserved  by  some  of  these,  were 
long  afterwards  communicated  to  Prior  by  a 
member  of  the  family,  then  living  in  Dublin. 
On  one  especially  memorable  occasion  the 
Seguins  dined  with  Goldsmith,  in  company  with 
"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pollard,  of  Castle  Pollard,"  in 
order  to  meet  Dr.  Johnson.  The  guests  had 
been  duly  warned  by  their  host  to  talk  only  upon 
such  subjects  as  they  thoroughly  understood, 
and  on  no  account  to  interrupt  the  great  man 
when  he  had  once  begun  to  discourse,  "With 
these  precautions,  added  to  the  favouring  circum- 
stance that  "  Ursa  Major"  chanced  to  be  in  an 
unusually  good  temper,  the  evening  passed  off 
pleasantly.     Another  memory  represents  Gold- 


A  Memoir  171 

smith  as  dancing  a  minuet  with  Mrs.  Seguin,  a 
performance  which  appears  to  have  excited 
almost  as  much  amusement  as  the  historical 
hornpipe  of  his  childhood.  Now  and  then,  it  is 
related,  he  would  sing  Irish  songs,  and  delight 
the  company  with  his  (and  Peggy  Golden's)  old 
favourite,  "  The  Cruelty  of  Barbara  Allen." 
Here  his  success  was  never  doubtful,  for,  with- 
out being  an  accomplished  vocalist,  he  sang 
with  much  natural  taste  and  feeling.  At  other 
times,  blind  man's  buff,  forfeits,  tricks  with 
cards,  and  children's  games  (when  there  were 
children  present),  were  the  order  of  the  day. 
"  He  unbent  without  reserve,"  says  Prior,  "  to 
the  level  of  whoever  were  his  companions,"  ^ 
and  the  anecdotes  of  this  time  are  wholly  con- 
firmatory of  his  amiability,  his  love  of  fun,  and 
his  naturally  cheerful  disposition.  His  hospital- 
ity, as  may  be  guessed,  was  in  advance  of  his 
means.  But  it  was  noted  that,  however  liberally 
he  feasted  his  guests,  his  own  habitual  evening 
meal  was  boiled  milk. 

In  May,  1768,  his  elder  brother  ended  an  un- 
obtrusive life  in  his  remote  Irish  home.  Henry 
Goldsmith  seems  to  have  been  the  only  member 
of  the  family  to  keep  up  a  correspondence  with 
his  junior,  whose  kith  and  kin,  by  his  account, 
^  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  193. 


172  Oliver  Goldsmith 

must  have  neglected  him  grievously.  *'  I  be- 
lieve I  have  vvritten  an  hundred  letters  to  differ- 
ent friends  in  your  country,"  he  later  tells  his 
brother  Maurice,  "and  never  received  an  an- 
swer to  any  of  them."  But  for  Henry  he  had 
attempted  to  obtain  preferment  from  the  Earl 
of  Northumberland  ;  to  Henry  he  had  inscribed 
"The  Traveller";  and  to  Henry  he  was  to 
refer,  with  affectionate  simplicity,  in  the  "  Dedi- 
cation "  of  his  next  poem.  Indeed,  it  is  prob- 
able that  the  death  of  Henry  Goldsmith,  by 
turning  his  thoughts  once  more  to  the  friends 
and  home  of  his  boyhood,  stimulated  the  pro- 
duction of  "The  Deserted  Village,"  in  which 
there  are  undoubted  traces  of  both.  And  it  is 
admitted  that  at  this  time  he  began  to  work 
upon  the  poem.  William  Cook,  the  young  law 
student  who  wrote  recollections  of  him  in  The 
European  Maga\hu,  expressly  testifies  to  this, 
and  gives  some  interesting  particulars  as  to  his 
methods  of  composition.  "Goldsmith,"  he  says, 
"  though  quick  enough  at  prose,  was  rather 
slow  in  his  poetry  —  not  from  the  tardiness  of 
fancy,  but  the  time  he  took  in  pointing  the 
sentiment,  and  polishing  the  versification.^  .   . 

1  This  is  confirmed  by  others.  His  method,  it  is  said, 
was  to  write  his  first  thoughts  in  lines  so  far  apart  as  to 
leave  "  ample  room  and  verge  enough  "  for  copious  inter- 


A  Memoir  173 

His  manner  of  writing  poetry  was  this  :  he  first 
sketched  a  part  of  his  design  in  prose,  in  which 
he  threw  out  his  ideas  as  they  occurred  to  him  ; 
he  then  sat  carefully  down  to  versify  them, 
correct  them,  and  add  such  other  ideas  as  he 
thought  better  fitted  to  the  subject.  He  some- 
times would  exceed  his  prose  design,  by  writing 
several  verses  impromptu,  but  these  he  would 
take  uncommon  pains  afterwards  to  revise,  lest 
they  should  be  found  unconnected  with  his 
main  design.  The  Writer  of  these  Memoirs 
called  upon  the  Doctor  the  second  morning 
after  he  had  begun  '  The  Deserted  Village,' 
and  to  him  he  communicated  the  plan  of  his 
poem.  .  .  .  He  then  read  what  he  had  done  of 
it  that  morning,  beginning  '  Dear  lovely  bowers 
of  innocence  and  ease,'"  and  so  on  for  ten 
lines.  "  '  Come,'  says  he,  '  let  me  tell  you,  this 
is  no  bad  morning's  work  ;  and  now,  my  dear  boy, 
if  you  are  not  better  engaged,  I  should  be  glad 
to  enjoy  a  Shoe-maker's  holiday  with  you.'  "^ 

Assuming  that  Cook  is  to  be  taken  literally, 
the  first  morning's  work  at  "The  Deserted 
Village  "   must  have  consisted   of  exactly  four 

lineation.  According  to  Percy,  he  so  industriously  filled 
these  spaces  with  corrections  that  scarce  a  line  of  the. 
original  draught  remained. 

^  European  Magazine,  September,  1793,  p.  173. 


174  Oliver  Goldsmith 

lines,  since  that  of  the  second  morning  begins 
at  line  five  of  the  poem  as  it  stands  at  present. 
But  the  processes  of  poetry  are  not  to  be  so 
exactly  meted,  and  it  is  probable  that  Cook  is 
more  to  be  depended  upon  in  his  account  of 
what  Goldsmith  calls  a  "shoemaker's  holiday," 
the  fashion  of  which  was  as  follows  :  "  Three  or 
four  of  his  [Goldsmith's]  intimate  friends  ren- 
dezvoused at  his  chambers  to  breakfast  about 
ten  o'clock  in  the  morning;  at  eleven  they  pro- 
ceeded by  the  City  Road  and  through  the  fields 
to  Highbury  Barn  to  dinner;  about  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening  they  adjourned  to  White  Conduit 
House  to  drink  tea  ;  and  concluded  the  evening 
by  supping  at  the  Grecian  or  Temple  Exchange 
Coffee-houses,  or  at  the  Globe  in  Fleet-street. 
There  was  a  very  good  ordinary  of  two  dishes 
and  pastry  kept  at  Highbury  Barn  about  this 
time  (five-and-twenty  years  ago  ^)  at  lod.  per 
head,  including  a  penny  to  the  waiter,  and  the 
company  generally  consisted  of  literary  char- 
acters, a  few  Templars,  and  some  citizens  who 
had  left  off  trade.  The  whole  expenses  of  this 
day's  fHe  never  exceeded  a  crown,  and  oftener 
from  three  and  sixpence  to  four  shillings,  for 
which  the  party  obtained  good  air  and  exercise, 
good  living,  the  example  of  simple  manners,  and 
^  Cook  wrote  in  1793. 


A  Memoir  175 

good  conversation."  Prior  adds  a  few  particu- 
lars to  this  account,  which,  it  may  be  observed, 
wholly  neglects  to  include  in  its  estimate  of 
expenditure,  the  "  remarkably  plentiful  and 
rather  expensive  breakfast,"  with  which  the  pro- 
ceedings began.  "  When  finished,"  he  says, 
"  he  [Goldsmith]  had  usually  some  poor  women 
in  attendance  to  whom  the  fragments  were  con- 
signed. On  one  occasion,  a  wealthy  city 
acquaintance  not  remarkable  for  elegance  of 
mind  or  manners,  who  observed  this  liberality, 
said  with  some  degree  of  freedom,  '  "Why, 
Doctor,  you  must  be  a  rich  man ;  /  cannot 
afford  to  do  this.'  '  It  is  not  wealth,  my  dear 
Sir,'  was  the  reply  of  the  Doctor,  willing  to  re- 
buke without  offending  his  guest,'  but  inclina- 
tion. I  have  only  to  suppose  that  a  few  more 
friends  than  usual  have  been  of  our  party,  and 
then  it  amounts  to  the  same  thing.'  "  ^ 

Cook,  of  course,  frequently  took  part  in  these 
expeditions,  and  Prior  enumerates  some  of  the 
others  who  assisted.  One  was  an  original 
named  Peter  Barlow,  a  humble  copyist  in  Gold- 
smith's employ.  He  always  appeared  in  the 
same  dress,  and  insisted  on  never  paying  more 
than  fifteen  pence  for  his  dinner,  the  balance 
being  made  up  by  Goldsmith,  who  compensated 
1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  1 8  2-3. 


176  Oliver  Goldsmith 

himself  with  the  diversion  that  Barlow's  eccen- 
tricities afforded  to  the  rest  of  the  company. 
Another  not  infrequent  holiday-keeper  was 
Glover,  already  mentioned  in  connection  with 
the  "  Wednesday  Club."  "  Coley,  and  "Wil- 
liams, and  Howard,  and  Hiff"  (HifFernan),  as 
the  line  of  "The  Haunch  of  Venison  "  has  it, 
were  doubtless  often  of  the  number,  as  well  as 
others  whose  names  have  been  forgotten  — 
carent  quia  vate  sacro.  "  Our  Doctor,"  said 
Glover,  at  p.  vi  of  the  life  prefixed  to  the 
"  Poems  and  Plays  "  of  1777,  "  had  a  constant 
levee  of  his  distrest  countrymen,  whose  wants, 
as  far  as  he  was  able,  he  always  relieved  ;  and 
he  has  been  often  known  to  leave  himself  with- 
out a  guinea,  in  order  to  supply  the  necessities 
of  others."  Sometimes  it  may  be  added,  he  even 
went  further  than  this,  and  borrowed  from  some 
one  else  the  guinea  required.  In  Taylor's 
"  Records  of  my  Life"  there  is  a  story  told  of 
Cook  to  this  effect.  Cook  had  engaged  to  meet 
a  party  at  Marylebone  Gardens,  and  applied  to 
Goldsmith  for  a  loan.  Goldsmith  had  not  the 
wherewithal ;  but  at  once  undertook  to  obtain 
it.  Having  waited  for  some  time.  Cook  finally 
went  away  without  the  money.  Returning  at 
five  in  the  morning,  he  found  it  difficult  to  open 
his  door;  and,  upon  investigation,  discovered 


A  Memoir  177 

that  the  obstruction  arose  from  a  guinea  wrapped 
in  paper,  which  Goldsmith,  disregarding  the 
established  medium  of  the  letter-box,  had  en- 
deavoured to  thrust  under  it.  Cook  thanked 
him  in  the  course  of  the  day ;  but  commented 
upon  this  unbusinesslike  mode  of  transferring 
funds,  adding,  very  justly,  that  any  one  might 
have  found  and  appropriated  the  little  packet. 
"  In  truth,  my  dear  fellow,"  replied  Goldsmith, 
"  I  did  not  think  of  that."  "The  fact  is,"  adds 
the  charitable  narrator  of  the  anecdote, ' '  he  prob- 
ably thought  of  nothing  but  serving  a  friend."^ 

From  the  "shoemaker's  holiday"  it  is  a 
natural  transition  to  the  "  Shoemaker's  Para- 
dise." This  was  a  summer  retreat  at  Edgeware 
at  the  back  of  Canons  (Pope's  "  Timon's 
Villa  "),  to  which  Goldsmith  moved  about  the 
middle  of  1768.  It  consisted  of  a  tiny  cottage 
which  had  been  actually  built  for  a  Piccadilly 
shoemaker ;  and  (by  Cook's  account)  was 
decorated  in  all  the  taste  of  the  "  Cit's  Country 
Box  "  sung  by  Robert  Lloyd,  or  that  other  and 
earlier  civic  Elysium  described  in  No.  xxxiii.  of 
The,  Connoisseur  —  in  other  words,  it  included, 
in  the  "scanty  plot"  of  half  an  acre,  all  those 
jets  cCeau,  flying  Mercuries,  gazeboes,  and 
ditches  — 

1  Records  of  my  Life,  1832,  i,  107-8. 
II 


1 78  Oliver  Goldsmith 

"  four  foot  wide, 
With  angles,  curves,  and  zig-zag  lines. 
From  Halfpen>iy' s  exact  designs,"  ^ 

in  which  the  common-council  mind  of  the  last 
century  delighted  when  it  surrendered  itself  to 
flights  of  fancy.  Goldsmith's  co-lessee  of  this 
desirable  residence,  was  a  Mr.  Edmund  Bott, 
a  barrister,  and  author  of  a  work  on  the  Poor 
Laws,  which  Goldsmith  is  reported  to  have 
revised.  Mr.  Bott  occupied  rooms  in  Brick 
Court  on  the  same  floor  as  Goldsmith,  and  a 
strong  friendship  sprang  up  between  them. 
Bott  was  the  richer  man,  and  Goldsmith  was 
frequently  indebted  to  him  for  loans  of  money  ; 
indeed,  at  Goldsmith's  death,  Bott  was  his  chief 
creditor,  and  thus  became  possessor  of  his 
papers.  In  spite,  however,  of  these  dubious 
relations,  they  were  boon  companions.  Edge- 
ware,  even  in  1768,  was  not  so  far  ofl"  as  to 
exile  them  from  the  pleasures  of  the  metropolis, 
especially  in  days  when  the  orthodox  dinner 
hour  was  four  o'clock.  Moreover,  Mr.  Bott 
kept  a  gig,  which  he  drove  himself  —  a  perform- 
ance not  without  its  excitements  when  the 
charioteer  was  slightly  in  his  cups.  There  is 
(or  was)  a  letter  extant  in  which  Goldsmith 
recalls  how,  upon  one  memorable  occasion,  his 
i  Lloyd's  Poetical  Works,  1774,  i,  45. 


A  Memoir  179 

companion,  having  bumped  a  post  with  great 
dexterity,  still  continued  to  maintain  doggedly 
that  the  vehicle  was  in  the  middle  of  the 
road. 

It  was  not,  however,  entirely  for  pleasure, 
quickened  by  the  "  violent  delight  "  of  an  occa- 
sional overturn,  that  Goldsmith  sought  the 
seclusion  of  the  little  cottage  at  the  back  of 
Lord  Chandos's  Edgeware  mansion.  During  all 
the  summer  of  1768  he  was,  doubtless,  busily 
employed  upon  the  "  History  of  Rome"  he  had 
undertaken  for  Davies,  which  was  published  in 
May  of  the  following  year.  Its  success  was 
instantaneous.  The  charm  and  simplicity  of 
the  style  at  once  caught  the  public,  and  though 
the  writer  disclaimed  research,  and  professed 
only  to  have  aimed  at  a  school  book,  he  obtained 
all  the  favour  attaching  to  work  that  conveys 
instruction  without  making  unreasonable  de- 
mands on  the  reader's  attention.  Its  popularity 
and  Goldsmith's  need  seem  speedily  to  have  led 
to  new  enterprises  of  a  like  nature.  Already, 
in  February,  1769,  he  had  entered  into  a  cove- 
nant with  Griffin,  the  publisher  of  the  "  Essays  " 
of  1765,  to  write,  in  eight  volumes,  at  one 
hundred  guineas  a  volume,  a  "  New  Natural 
History  of  Animals,"  which  afterwards  became 
the  well-known  "  Animated  Nature  "  ;  and  the 


i8o  Oliver  Goldsmith 

"  Roman  History"  was  no  sooner  issued,  than 
Davies  made  proposals  for  a  new  "  English 
History "  in  four  volumes  octapo,  at  ;!^^oo. 
Among  Goldsmith's  friends  there  was  no  doubt 
as  to  his  ability  to  make  these  productions 
readable,  even  if  they  were  not  equally  sure  of 
his  equipment  as  a  naturalist  or  an  historian. 
"Sir,"  said  the  ever-steadfast  Johnson,  ''he 
has  the  art  of  compiling,"  and  he  predicted  that 
his  friend  would  make  his  natural  history  as 
interesting  as  a  Persian  tale.  Nowadays  we 
may  possibly  require  a  different  standard  of 
entertainment  ;  but  Johnson's  meaning  is  un- 
mistakable. Nevertheless,  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  necessity  should  have  left  open  no  other 
career  than  "  book-building"  to  the  author  of 
an  unique  novel,  an  excellent  comedy,  and  a 
successful  didactic  poem. 

Goldsmith's  only  contribution  to  the  lighter 
muses  for  the  year  1769  consists  of  an  epilogue 
to  the  comedy  of  "  The  Sister,"  by  Mrs.  Char- 
lotte Lenox  (nde  Ramsay),  an  authoress  who 
seems  to  have  been  a  considerable  favourite 
with  the  literati  of  her  day.  Fielding  speaks  of 
her  in  his  last  book^  as  "the  inimitable  author 

1  "  yournal  of  a  Voyage  to  Lisbon"  1755,  pp-  35-6. 
For  some  further  account  of  Mrs.  Lenox,  see  ^^  Eighteenth 
Ce7ttmy  Vignettes"  First  Series,  pp.  55-67. 


A  Memoir  i8i 

of  the  'Female  Quixote,'"  and  Johnson  was 
half  suspected  of  having  revised  her  "Shakes- 
peare Illustrated."  It  was  probably  owing  to 
this  popularity  that  Goldsmith  wrote  her  the 
epilogue  in  question,  as  her  comedy  belonged 
to  that  genteel,  if  not  absolutely  sentimental 
class  of  play,  of  which  he  was  the  avowed 
opponent.  It  is  a  pleasant  example  of  his  facil- 
ity and  good  nature.  The  only  other  incident 
of  this  year  requiring  record  is  a  famous  din- 
ner at  BosweU's,  which  has  always  played  an 
important  part  in  all  literary  portraits  of  Gold- 
smith. The  impression  produced  by  the  ex- 
traordinary art  of  Johnson's  biographer  is  so 
vivid,  that,  although  one  feels  the  malice  of 
some  of  the  touches,  any  attempt  to  soften 
them  detracts  from  the  value  of  the  picture. 
It  must  therefore  be  given  in  Boswell's  own 
words  :  — 

"  He  [Johnson]  honoured  me  with  his  com- 
pany at  dinner  on  the  i6th  October  [1769],  at 
my  lodgings  in  Old  Bond-street,  with  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  Mr.  Garrick,  Dr.  Goldsmith,  Mr. 
Murphy,  Mr.  BickerstafT,  and  Mr.  Thomas 
Davies.  Garrick  played  round  him  with  a  fond 
vivacity,  taking  hold  of  the  breasts  of  his  coat, 
and  looking  up  in  his  face  with  a  lively  arch- 
ness,   complimented   him    on   the   good   health 


1 82  Oliver  Goldsi7iith 

which  he  seemed  then  to  enjoy  ;  while  the  sage, 
shaking  his  head,  beheld  him  with  a  gentle 
complacency.  One  of  the  company  not  being 
come  at  the  appointed  hour,  I  proposed,  as 
usual  upon  such  occasions,  to  order  dinner  to 
be  served  ;  adding,  '  Ought  six  people  to  be 
kept  waiting  for  one  ? '  '  Why,  yes  (answered 
Johnson,  with  a  delicate  humanity),  if  the  one 
will  suffer  more  by  your  sitting  down,  than  the 
six  will  do  by  waiting.'  Goldsmith,  to  divert 
the  tedious  minutes,  strutted  about,  bragging  of 
his  dress,  and  I  believe  was  seriously  vain  of 
it,  for  his  mind  was  wonderfully  prone  to  such 
impressions.  '  Come,  come,  (said  Garrick,) 
talk  no  more  of  that.  You  are,  perhaps,  the 
worst  —  eh,  eh  I '  Goldsmith  was  eagerly  at- 
tempting to  interrupt  him,  when  Garrick  went 
on,  laughing  ironically,  '  Nay,  you  will  always 
look  like  a  gentleman  ;  but  I  am  talking  of  being 
well  or  ill  drest.^  '  Well,  let  me  tell  you,  (said 
Goldsmith,)  when  my  tailor  brought  home  my 
bloom-coloured  coat,  he  said,  "Sir,  I  have  a 
favour  to  beg  of  you.  When  anybody  asks  you 
who  made  your  clothes,  be  pleased  to  mention 
John  Filby,  at  the  Harrow,  in  Water  Lane.' 
Johnson.  '  Why,  Sir,  that  was  because  he  knew 
the  strange  colour  would  attract  crowds  to  gaze 
at  it,  and  thus  they  might  hear  of  him,  and  see 


A  Memoir  183 

how  well   he   could  make  a  coat  even  of  so 
absurd  a  colour.'  "  ^ 

The  conversation  which  followed  occupies 
some  pages  of  Boswell's  record.  But  Gold- 
smith's part  in  it,  or,  at  all  events,  that  part 
which  Boswell  thought  worthy  of  preservation, 
seems  to  have  been  confined  to  a  curt  comment 
on  Lord  Kames's  "  Elements  of  Criticism," 
and  the  not  very  original  remark  that  Pope's 
"  Atticus  "  showed  a  deep  knowledge  of  the 
human  heart.  Johnson,  on  the  other  hand, 
distinguished  himself  more  than  usual,  espe- 
cially by  his  well-known  and  paradoxical  pref- 
erence of  a  passage  in  Congreve's  "  Mourning 
Bride  "  to  anything  he  could  recollect  in  Shakes- 
peare. Not  long  after  this  memorable  enter- 
tainment, simultaneous  honours  fell  upon  the 
two  friends.  The  Public  Adverlher  announced 
that  Johnson  had  been  appointed  Professor  of 
Ancient  Literature,  and  Goldsmith  Professor 
of   Ancient    History,  to    the   Royal    Academy. 

1  Hill's  Boswell's  Johnson,  1887,  ii,  83.  Boswell's 
memory  errs  here.  The  tailor's  Christian  name  was 
William.  Dr.  Birkbeck  Hill  is  somewhat  exercised  to 
find  that  Filby's  accounts  for  this  date  only  chronicle 
"  bloom-coloured  breeches."  But  Goldsmith  was  plainly 
referring  to  the  historical  suit  of  "  Tyrian  bloom  satin 
grain,"  which  had  been  sent  home  just  before  the  pro- 
duction of  "  The.Good  Natur'd  Man."     See  ante,  p.  164. 


1 84  Oliver  Goldsmith 

This  was  in  December ;  but  the  formal  election 
only  took  place  on  the  succeeding  9th  of 
January.  Reynolds,  who  had  been  made  presi- 
dent some  time  before,  was  the  motive  power 
in  these  distinctions,  which,  unhappily,  were 
purely  honorary.  "The  King,"  wrote  Gold- 
smith in  January  to  his  brother  Maurice,  "  has 
lately  been  pleased  to  make  me  professor  of 
Ancient  History  in  a  Royal  Academy  of  Paint- 
ing, which  he  has  just  established,  but  there  is 
no  salary  annexed  ;  and  I  took  it  rather  as  a 
compliment  to  the  institution  than  any  benefit 
to  myself.  Honours  to  one  in  my  situation  are 
something  like  ruffles  to  one  that  wants  a  shirt."  ^ 
This  last  illustration  he  subsequently,  after  his 
fashion,  worked  into  the  "  Haunch  of  Venison." 
In  the  same  letter  he  speaks  of  sending  to  Ire- 
land mezzotinto  prints  of  himself,  Burke,  John- 
son, and  other  of  his  friends.  His  own  portrait 
to  which  he  refers,  was  the  well-known  one  by 
Reynolds,  now  at  Knole,  which  was  exhibited 
at  the  Royal  Academy  in  1770  with  those  of 
Johnson  and  Colman.  The  engraving  of  it  by 
Marchi  was  not,  however,  issued  until  the  fol- 
lowing December,  by  which  time  Goldsmith 
was  in  possession  of  fresh  laurels  as  the  author 
of  "  The  Deserted  Village." 

1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  221. 


A  Memoir  185 

The  poem  of  "  The  Deserted  Village"  had 
been  but  slowly  produced.  When  it  was  at  last 
published,  on  the  26th  of  May,  1770,  nearly 
two  years  had  elapsed  since  Cook  first  found 
the  author  at  work  upon  the  opening  couplets. 
But  its  reception  amply  atoned  for  any  labour 
of  the  file  to  which  it  had  been  subjected.  Be- 
fore a  month  had  passed,  second,  third,  and 
fourth  editions  were  called  for,  and  in  August 
came  a  fifth.  The  poem  was  dedicated  to  Rey- 
nolds, with  a  touching  reference  to  Henry 
Goldsmith.  "The  only  dedication  I  ever  made 
was  to  my  brother,  because  I  loved  him  better 
than  most  other  men.  He  is  since  dead.  Per- 
mit me  to  inscribe  this  Poem  to  you."^  In 
some  passages  that  follow.  Goldsmith  anticipates 
the  objections  to  which  he  evidently  felt  his 
theory  of  depopulation  was  liable.  "  I  sincerely 
believe  what  I  have  written,"  he  said  ;  "  I  have 
taken  all  possible  pains,  in  my  country  excur- 
sions, for  these  four  or  five  years  past,  to  be 
certain  of  what  I  allege  ;  "  and  "  all  my  views 
and  enquiries  have  led  me  to  believe  those 
miseries  real,  which  I  here  attempt  to  display." 

^  Reynolds  repaid  this  compliment  in  1772,  by  inscrib- 
ing to  Goldsmith  the  print  of  "  Resignation  "  as  follows  : 
"  This  attempt  to  express  a  character  in  '  The  Deserted 
Village,'  is  dedicated  to  Doctor  Goldsmith,  by  his  sincere 
friend  and  admirer,  Joshua  Reynolds." 


1 86  Oliver  Goldsmith 

To  Cook  (unless  Cook  was  only  paraphrasing 
this  dedication)  he  spoke  in  similar  terms, 
"Some  of  my  friends,"  he  told  him,  "differ 
with  me  on  this  plan,  and  think  this  depopula- 
tion of  villages  does  not  exist — but  I  am  my- 
self satisfied  of  the  fact.  I  remember  it  in  my 
own  country,  and  have  seen  it  in  this."^  In 
such  anxiety  to  show  cause,  there  is  an  accent 
of  doubt.  He  had,  it  is  true,  seen  something 
of  the  kind  in  his  own  country,  when  a  certain 
General  Naper  or  Napier,  returning  enriched 
from  Vigo,  in  extending  his  estate,  displaced  a 
number  of  cottiers  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Lissoy.  But  none  of  his  biographers  have 
brought  forward  any  of  that  evidence  which  he 
affirmed  he  had  collected,  of  similar  enormities 
in  England. 

There  is  another  aspect  of  the  poem  which 
has  proved  a  fertile  source  of  speculation. 
What  was  the  locality  of  Goldsmith's  "Auburn," 
and  how  far,  since  other  claimants  may  be 
neglected,  is  it  to  be  identified  with  Lissoy  ? 
It  has  been  sought  to  prove  that  Lissoy  was  the 
original  Auburn,  and  that  the  likeness  cor- 
responds in  the  most  minute  particulars.  This 
is  manifestly  a  mistake,  which  very  little  ac- 
quaintance with  poetic  methods  should  have 
1  European  Magazine,  September,  1793,  p.  172. 


A  Memoir  187 

sufficed  to  prevent.  There  is  no  evidence  (al- 
though there  is  a  vague  tradition)  that  Gold- 
smith ever  visited  Ireland  after  he  left  it  in  i7')2, 
more  than  fifteen  years  before  he  began  to  write 
"  The  Deserted  Village."  The  poem  was  con- 
ceived in  England  ;  and  from  his  desire  to  prove 
depopulation  in  England,  was  evidently  in- 
tended to  have  its  scene  in  England.  But  its 
leading"  idea  was  no  doubt  suggested  by  the  old 
Napier  story  familiar  to  his  boyhood,  and  sen- 
sibly or  insensibly,  for  many  of  the  accessories 
he  drew  upon  his  memories  of  his  Irish  home. 
There  is  no  reason  for  supposing  that,  in  "  the 
decent  church  that  topp'd  the  neighbouring 
hill,"  we  may  not  recognise  that  of  Kilkenny 
West  as  seen  from  Lissoy  Parsonage,  or  that 
the  hawthorn  tree  was  not  that  immemorial  one 
in  front  of  the  village  alehouse,  which  finally 
fell  before  the  penknives  of  the  curious.  In  the 
same  way,  the  details  of  the  alehouse  itself  were 
probably  those  of  some  kindred  hostelry  he  had 
known  well  at  Ballymahon  or  elsewhere.  And 
it  is  certain  that  with  the  traits  of  the  village 
preacher  are  mingled  those  of  his  father,  his 
brother,  and  perhaps  his  Uncle  Contarine, 
while,  for  the  pedagogue,  he  obviously  bor- 
rowed some  of  the  characteristics  of  his  old 
master,  Thomas  Byrne. 


1 88  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Happily,  however,  the  popularity  of  "The 
Deserted  Village"  depends  neither  upon  the 
fidelity  of  its  resemblance  to  a  little  hamlet  in 
Westmeath,  nor  upon  the  accuracy  of  its  theo- 
ries as  to  luxury  and  depopulation.  In  this  age, 
when  it  is  not  necessary,  as  in  Goldsmith's  days 
it  was,  to  make  declaration  of  some  moral  pur- 
pose, however  doubtful,  we  are  free  to  disregard 
its  ethical  and  political  teaching  in  favour  of  its 
sweet  and  tender  cadences,  and  its  firm  hold 
upon  the  ever-fresh  commonplaces  of  human 
nature.  Johnson  thought  it  inferior  to  "The 
Traveller,"  probably  because  it  was  less  didac- 
tic ;  we,  on  the  contrary,  prefer  it,  because, 
with  less  obtrusion  of  moral,  it  presents  in 
larger  measure  those  qualities  of  chastened 
sympathy  and  descriptive  grace  which  are  Gold- 
smith at  his  best.  It  is  idle  to  quote  passages 
from  a  work  so  familiar.  The  beautiful  lines, 
beginning,  "  In  all  my  wanderings  round  this 
world  of  care,"  and  the  portrait  of  the  clergy- 
man and  schoolmaster,  are  too  well  known  to 
need  recalling.  But  we  may  fitly  reproduce  the 
final  farewell  to  Poetry,  which,  judging  from 
the  numerous  appeals  and  deprecatory  com- 
ments it  elicited,  must  have  excited  far  more 
apprehension  among  the  writer's  contempora- 
ries   than    such    valedictory   addresses    usually 


A  Memoir  1S9 

des3rve.    The  adieus  of  poets,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
are  like  the  last  appearances  of  actors. 

"And  thou,  sweet  Poetry,  thou  loveliest  maid. 
Still  first  to  fly  where  sensual  joys  invade ; 
Unfit  in  these  degenerate  times  of  shame. 
To  catch  the  heart,  or  strike  for  honest  fame ; 
Dear  charming  nymph,  neglected  and  decried, 
My  shame  in  crowds,  my  solitary  pride  ; 
Thou  source  of  all  my  bliss,  and  all  my  woe, 
That  found'st  me  poor  at  first,  and  keep'st  me  so ; 
Thou  guide  by  which  the  nobler  arts  excel. 
Thou  nurse  of  every  virtue,  fare  thee  well ! 
Farewell,  and  Oh  !  where'er  thy  voice  be  tried. 
On  Torno's  cliffs,  or  Pambamarca's  side, 
Whether  where  equinoctial  fervours  glow, 
Or  winter  wraps  the  polar  world  in  snow, 
Still  let  thy  voice,  prevailing  over  time. 
Redress  the  rigours  of  th'  inclement  clime  ; 
Aid  slighted  truth ;  with  thy  persuasive  strain 
Teach  erring  man  to  spurn  the  rage  of  gain  ; 
Teach  him,  that  states  of  native  strength  possess'd. 
Though  very  poor,  may  still  be  very  bless'd ; 
That  trade's  proud  empire  hastes  to  swift  decay. 
As  ocean  sweeps  the  labour'd  mole  away  ; 
While  self-dependent  power  can  time  defy. 
As  rocks  resist  the  billows  and  the  sky."  ^■ 

What  Goldsmith  was  paid  for  "  The  De- 
serted Village "  is  uncertain.  Glover  says  it 
was  a  hundred   guineas,  and  adds  that   Gold- 

1  The  last  four  lines  are  Johnson's. 


190  Oliver  Goldsmith 

smith  gave  the  money  back  to  his  publisher, 
because  some  one  thought  it  was  too  much.^ 
Whether  such  a  story  is  wholly  credible,  may 
be  left  to  the  judicious  reader  to  decide. 

1  Life  prefixed  to  Poems  and  Plays,  1777,  vi-vii. 


CHAPTER   X 

The  Horneck  family  ;  "  Life  of  Thomas  Parnell  "  published, 
July  13, 1770 ;  visit  to  Paris,  and  letters  to  Reynolds;  "Abridg- 
ment of  Roman  History,"  September ;  "  Life  of  Boling- 
broke"  published,  December;  Lord  Clare  and  "  The  Haunch 
of  Venison";  at  the  Royal  Academy  dinner;  at  Edgeware; 
"  History  of  England"  published,  August  6,  1771;  letter  to 
Langton,  September  17;  prologue  to  Cradock's  "  Zobeide," 
December  11;  "  Threnodia  Augustalis"  published,  February 
20,  1772;  letter  in  prose  and  verse  to  Mrs.  Bunbury;  story  of 
"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  "  ;  production  of  that  play  at  Covent 
Garden,  March  15,  1773  ;  its  success. 

A  MONG  the  friends  whom  Goldsmith  had 
-^^  made  at  Reynolds's  house  was  a  pleasant 
family  from  Devonshire,  consisting  of  a  mother, 
a  son,  and  two  daughters.  The  mother,  Mrs. 
Hannah  Horneck,  the  widow  of  a  certain  Cap- 
tain Kane  Horneck,  of  the  Royal  Engineers, 
had  been  known  in  her  youth  as  the  "  Plymouth 
Beauty,"  and  her  daughters,  Catherine  and 
Mary,  at  this  date  girls  of  nineteen  and  seven- 
teen respectively,  inherited  and  even  excelled 
her  charms.  Charles  Horneck,  the  son,  who 
had  recently  entered  the  Foot  Guards,  was  a 
"pretty  fellow"  of  sufficient    eminence  to   be 


192  Oliver  Goldsmith 

caricatured  as  a  Macaroni  ;  but  he  was  also  an 
amiable  and  a  genial  companion.  With  these 
new  acquaintances  Goldsmith  appears  to  have 
become  very  intimate,  visiting  them  frequently 
at  their  house  at  Westminster,  or  meeting  them 
at  Sir  Joshua's.  There  is  a  rhymed  letter 
among  his  poems  declining  an  invitation  to  join 
them  at  the  house  of  Reynolds's  physician,  Dr. 
Baker,  in  which  he  refers  to  the  young  ladies 
by  the  pet  names  of  "  Little  Comedy  "  and  the 
"Jessamy  Bride,"  while  he  speaks  of  their 
brother  as  the  ''  Captain  in  Lace/'  titles 
modelled,  no  doubt,  on  the  popular  shop-win- 
dow prints  of  Matthew  Darly  and  the  rest,  and, 
whether  conferred  by  Goldsmith  or  not,  plainly, 
by  their  use,  implying  a  considerable  amount  of 
familiarity.  Indeed,  the  personal  attractions  of 
the  Miss  Hornecks  seem  to  have  exercised  no 
small  fascination  over  the  susceptible  poet,  a 
fascination  to  which,  in  the  case  of  the  younger 
—  for  Catherine  was  already  engaged  to  Bun- 
bury  the  caricaturist  —  some  of  his  biographers 
have  thought  it  justifiable  to  attach  a  gentler 
name.  After  Catherine's  marriage  in  August, 
1 77 1,  Goldsmith  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  Bun- 
bury's  house  at  Great  Barton  in  Suffolk,  where, 
to  this  day,  some  relics  of  him,  including  the 
rhymed  letter  above  referred  to,  are  piously  pre- 


A  Memoir  193 

served.  Whether  he,  a  mature  man  of  forty- 
two,  did  really  cherish  a  more  than  cordial 
friendship  for  the  beautiful  "  Jessamy  Bride," 
into  whose  company  he  was  so  often  thrown, 
must  be  left  to  speculation  ;  but  that  a  genuine 
regard  existed  on  both  sides  can  scarcely  be 
contested,  and  many  of  the  most  interesting 
anecdotes  of  Goldsmith's  latter  days  are  derived 
from  the  recollections  communicated  to  Prior  by 
the  lady,  who,  as  Mrs.  Gwyn,  survived  until 
1840. 

In  July,  1770,  shortly  after  the  publication  of 
a  brief  and  not  very  elaborate  "  Life  of  Thomas 
Parnell,"  which  he  had  prepared  for  Davies,  to 
accompany  a  new  edition  of  Parnell's  works, 
Goldsmith  set  off  to  Paris  on  a  holiday  jaunt 
with  Mrs.  Horneck  and  her  daughters.  "  The 
Professor  of  History,"  writes  that  fair  Academi- 
cian, Miss  Mary  Moser,  to  Fuseli  at  Rome, 
"  is  comforted  by  the  success  of  his  '  Deserted 
Village,'  which  is  a  very  pretty  poem,  and  has 
lately  put  himself  under  the  conduct  of  Mrs. 
Horneck  and  her  fair  daughters,  and  is  gone  to 
France ;  and  Dr.  Johnson  sips  his  tea,  and 
cares  not  for  the  vanity  of  the  world."  ^  From 
Calais  Goldsmith  sent  a  letter  to  Reynolds,  in 
which  he  gossips  brightly  about  the  passage,  not, 
1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  288. 
•3 


194  Oliver  Goldsmith 

it  appears,  an  entire  success,  owing  to  the 
imperfect  state  of  his  "  machine  to  prevent  sea- 
sickness," Then,  after  describing  the  extor- 
tionate civilities  of  the  French  porters,  he  winds 
up  with  what  is  presumably  a  playful  memory 
of  those  trivialities  of  travellers  which  he  had 
satirised  as  Lien  Chi  Altangi  :  '<  I  cannot  help 
mentioning  another  circumstance  ;  I  bought  a 
new  ribbon  for  my  wig  at  Canterbury,  and  the 
barber  at  Calais  broke  it  in  order  to  gain  six- 
pence by  buying  me  a  new  one. "^  At  Lille, 
where  the  party  stopped  en  route,  occurred  an 
incident,  which,  since  it  has  been  told  to  Gold- 
smith's disadvantage,  shall  be  given  here  from 
the  narrative  of  the  "  Jessamy  Bride,"  as  sum- 
marised by  Prior.  "  Having  visited  part  of 
Flanders,  they  were  proceeding  to  Paris  by  the 
way  of  Lisle,  when  in  the  vicinity  of  the  hotel 
at  which  they  put  up,  a  part  of  the  garrison 
going  through  some  military  manoeuvre;,  drew 
them  to  the  windows,  when  the  gallantry  of  the 
officers  broke  forth  into  a  variety  of  compliments 
intended  for  the  ears  of  the  English  ladies. 
Goldsmith  seemed  amused  ;  but  at  length  assum- 
ing something  of  severity  of  countenance,  which 
was  a  pecularity  of  his  humour  often  displayed 
when  most  disposed  to  be  jocular,  turned  off, 
1  miscellaneous  Works,  i8oi,  i,  90,  91. 


A  Memoir  195 

uttering  something  to  the  effect  of  what  is  com- 
monly stated,  that  elsewhere  he  would  also  have 
his  admirers.  '  This,'  added  my  informant, 
'  was  said  in  mere  playfulness,  and  I  was  shocked 
many  years  afterwards  to  see  it  adduced  in  print 
as  a  proof  of  his  envious  disposition.'  "  ^ 

The  above  disposes  of  the  versions  of  North- 
cote  and  Boswell  attributing  genuine  jealousy 
to  Goldsmith  upon  this  occasion,  an  accusation 
which,  as  Prior  says,  is  an  absurdity,  and  the 
reference  to  his  assumed  '^  severity  of  coun- 
tenance "  goes  far  to  explain  some  other  stories 
of  the  kind.  But  Prior's  very  next  sentence 
unconsciously  confirms  the  charges  made  against 
him  of  undue  preoccupation  with  his  own  im- 
portance. "  Of  Paris,  the  same  lady  states 
he  soon  became  tired,  the  celebrity  of  his  name 
and  the  recent  success  of  his  poem,  not  ensur- 
ing that  attention  from  its  literary  circles  which 
the  applause  received  at  home  induced  him  to 
expect."^  Hence,  or  for  some  other  reasons, 
among  which  may  be  reckoned  his  ill-health 
and  pecuniary  difficulties,  there  is  little  rose- 
colour  in  his  next  letter  to  Reynolds.  His 
companions  are  not  interested,  and  he  himself 
is  weary.      The    petty  troubles    of  travel    are 

J  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  291. 
2  Ibid. 


196  Oliver  Goldsmith 

harder  to  bear  than  they  were  when,  a  younger 
and  a  stronger  man,  he  led  the 

"  sportive  choir, 
"With  tuneless  pipe,  beside  the  murmuring  Loire  ; " 

the  diet  disagrees  with  his  dyspepsia,  and  he 
is  hungering  for  tidings  of  Johnson,  and  Burke, 
and  Cohnan,  and  the  rest  of  the  Gerrard  Street 
company.  He  has  besides,  he  says,  "  so  out- 
run the  constable  that  he  must  mortify  a  little 
to  bring  it  up  again  ; "  and  he  has  bought  a 
silk  coat  which  makes  him  look  like  a  fool.  ^ 
So  the  letter  ambles  on  to  the  close.  He  can- 
not say  more  because  he  intends  showing  it  to 
the  ladies,  and  he  concludes  with  a  phrase  be- 
ginning with  a  pair  of  words  almost  as  common 
on  his  lips  as  his  favourite  "In  truth  "  —  "  What 
signifies  teasing  you  longer  with  moral  obser- 
vations when  the  business  of  my  writing  is 
over?"^  He  has  only  one  thing  more  to  say, 
and  of  that  he  thinks  every  hour,  that  he  is  his 
correspondent's  "  most  sincere  and  most  affec- 
tionate friend."  It  has  been  hinted  that  to  his 
other  continental  discomforts  was  added  an 
uncongenial  companion,  Mr.  Hickey  of  "  Re- 
taliation,"   who    joined    the    party,    and    being 

1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  294. 

2  Idid.  ii,  295. 


A  Memoir  197 

familiar  with  Paris,  absorbed  too  much  atten- 
tion. Hickey  was,  as  Goldsmith  called  him 
afterwards,  "a  most  blunt,  pleasant  creature," 
but  at  this  time  the  former  qualification  seems 
to  have  been  in  the  ascendant.  The  two  men, 
in  short,  did  not  agree,  and  to  this  circum- 
stance, perhaps,  are  to  be  traced  one  or  two  of 
the  less  creditable  anecdotes  of  the  poet  dating 
from  this  time.  While  at  Versailles,  it  is  said. 
Goldsmith,  remembering  his  old  prowess  as  a 
boy,  attemped  to  leap  from  the  bank  on  to  one 
of  the  little  islets,  and  fell  lamentably  short. 
Doubtless  this  (as  Prior  says),  "  was  to  the 
great  amusement  of  the  company"^  (and  proba- 
bly to  the  detriment  of  the  silk  coat)  ;  but  it  is 
manifestly  an  episode  that  may  be  told  in  many 
ways,  according  to  the  taste  and  fancy  of  the 
teller.  In  Mr.  Hickey's  unsympathetic  narra- 
tive, for  instance,  it  would  probably  acquire  all 
the  advantages  of  picturesque  treatment. 

In  his  letter  to  Reynolds,  touching  that  little 
sentence  about  "  outrunning  the  constable," 
Goldsmith  had  spoken  of  laying  by  at  Dover, 
or  rather  of  taking  a  country  lodging  in  the 
vicinity,  "  in  order  to  do  some  business." 
When  his  six  weeks'  excursion  was  over,  how- 
ever, he  does  not  appear  to  have  acted  upon  his 

1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  296-7. 


198  Oliver  Goldsmith 

intention,  perhaps  because  of  the  death  of  his 
mother,  of  which  he  had  received  intelligence 
while  abroad.  There  is  a  silly  story,  repeated 
by  Northcote,  that  he  only  put  on  half-mourning 
for  this  bereavement.  But  it  has  been  refuted 
by  both  Prior  and  Forster,  with  the  aid  of  Mr. 
Filby's  bills,  which  duly  record  the  purchase 
of  a  suit  of  mourning  sent  home  on  the  8th  of 
September,  and  the  terms  are  identical  with 
those  which  chronicle  similar  purchases  made 
upon  the  deaths  of  his  brother  Henry  and 
the  Princess  Dowager  of  Wales.  Probably  the 
expense  thus  incurred  served  to  increase  the 
activity  with  which  he  returned  to  the  old  task 
work.  Only  a  few  days  after  Mr.  Filby  sent 
home  the  new  clothes.  Goldsmith  had  agreed 
with  Davies  to  abridge  the  "  Roman  History" 
of  the  previous  year  for  fifty  guineas,  and,  even 
before  entering  upon  this  labour,  he  was  en- 
gaged upon  another  task  for  the  same  book-sel- 
ler, a  life  of  Bolingbroke,  intended  to  introduce 
a  reprint  of  that  writer's  "  Dissertation  upon 
Parties."  The  book  must  have  been  hastily 
prepared,  for  it  was  published  in  December, 
without  any  author's  name  ;  and,  from  one  of 
Davies'  letters  to  Granger  of  the  **  Biographical 
History,"  apparently  took  as  much  time  to 
print  as  to  write.      "  Doctor  Goldsmith,"   he 


A  Memoir  199 

complains,  "  is  gone  with  Lord  Clare  into  the 
country,  and  I  am  plagued  to  get  the  proofs 
from  him  of  his  '  Life  of  Lord  Bolingbroke.'  " 
The  evidences  of  hurry  were  more  manifest  in 
this  work  than  usual,  and  his  old  enemies  of 
Th&  Monthly  Review  did  not  fail  to  make  merry 
over  its  errors  of  the  pen,  and  its  sporadic  John- 
sonese. But  his  facts  are  said  to  have  been 
fully  abreast  of  contemporary  knowledge  ;  and 
he  had,  at  least,  one  quality  of  success  — 
that  of  genuine  admiration  for  the  parts  and 
politics  of  the  brilliant  genius  who  formed  his 
subject. 

As  already  stated,  the  book  was  issued  in 
December,  and  from  Davies'  words  it  is  clear 
that  Goldsmith  had  already  gone  to  visit  Lord 
Clare  before  this  date.  He  stayed  with  him 
some  time,  and  during  the  opening  months  of 
1 77 1  was  still  in  his  company.  "  Goldsmith  is 
at  Bath,  with  Lord  Clare,"  writes  Johnson  to 
Langton,  in  March.  At  Bath  occurred  that  char- 
acteristic second  visit  to  the  Duke  of  Northum- 
berland,^ which,  since  it  is  related  by  Percy 
on  the  authority  of  the  Duchess  herself,  can 
scarcely  be  rejected  by  the  courteous  biog- 
rapher,   even  if  it  were  not,  as  it  is,  an  inci- 

^  See  Chapter  vii.  The  Earl  of  Northumberland  had 
been  created  a  Duke  in  1766. 


200  Oliver  Goldsmith 

dent  thoroughly  in  keeping  with  what  we  know 
of  Goldsmith  from  other  sources.  "  On  one 
of  the  parades  at  Bath,"  says  Percy,  "  the 
Duke  and  Lord  Nugent  had  hired  two  adjacent 
houses.  Dr.  Goldsmith,  who  was  then  resident 
on  a  visit  to  the  latter,  one  morning  walked  up 
into  the  Duke's  dining-room,  as  he  and  the 
Duchess  were  preparing  to  sit  down  to  breakfast. 
In  a  manner  the  most  free  and  easy  he  threw 
himself  on  a  sofa  ;  and  as  he  was  then  perfectly 
known  to  them  both,  they  inquired  of  him  the 
Bath  news  of  the  day  ;  and,  imagining  there  was 
some  mistake,  endeavoured  by  easy  and  cheer- 
ful conversation  to  prevent  his  being  too  much 
embarrassed,  till  breakfast  being  served  up,  they 
invited  him  to  stay  and  partake  of  it.  Then  he 
awoke  from  his  reverie,  declared  he  thought  he 
had  been  in  the  house  of  his  friend  Lord 
Nugent,  and  with  a  confusion  which  may  be 
imagined,  hastily  withdrew  ;  but  not  till  they  had 
kindly  made  him  promise  to  dine  with  them."  ^ 

That  Goldsmith  referred  to  his  friend  as  Lord 
Nugent  is  scarcely  possible,  for  Lord  Clare  did 
not  obtain  this  title  until  after  Goldsmith  had 
been  dead  two  years.  This,  however,  is  a 
trifle  which  detracts  little  from  the  veracity  of 
the  story.     How  much  longer  he  continued  to 

1  MisceUa7ieous  Works,  1801,  i,  68-g. 


A  Memoir  201 

be  Lord  Clare's  guest  is  unrecorded  ;  but  shortly 
after  his  return  to  London  he  is  supposed  to 
have  addressed  to  him,  in  return  for  a  present  of 
venison,  the  delightful  "  poetical  epistle  "  which 
is  to  be  found  in  his  works.  That  it  was 
written  subsequent  to  the  middle  of  1770  may 
be  inferred  from  its  quotation  of  a  famous  lapse  ^ 
in  one  of  the  love-letters  of  his  illiterate  Royal 
Highness,  Henry  Frederick,  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land, to  the  Countess  Grosvenor — a  corre- 
spondence which,  in  the  summer  of  the  above 
year,  afforded  huge  delight  to  the  scandal-mon- 
gers—  and  it  is  most  probable  that  the  poem 
was  written  in  the  spring  of  1771.  But  what- 
ever its  exact  date,  Mr.  Forster  is  right  (not- 
withstanding a  slight  obscurity  in  the  closing 
lines)  in  claiming  the  highest  praise  for  this 
piece  of  ''  private  pleasantry."  So  happy  is  it, 
that  were  it  not  for  its  obvious  recollections  of 
Boileau's  third  satire,  one  might  be  disposed  to 
regard  it  as  autobiographical.  To  select  a 
passage  from  a  piece  so  uniformly  wrought  is 
difficult,  but  the  excellence  of  the  description  of 
the  dinner,  as  a  sample  of  what  his  most  super- 

1  "  Left  alone  to  reflect,  having  emptied  my  shelf, 
'  And  nobody  with  me  at  sea  but  myself.'  " 
The  second  line  is  almost  a  textual  reproduction  of  a 
phrase  in  one  of  the  Duke's  letters. 


202  Oliver  Goldsmith 

fine  contemporaries  called  the  poet's  "■  low " 
humour,  must  serve  as  an  excuse  for  quoting  it 
at  length.  The  reader  will  only  need  to  re- 
member that  while  Goldsmith,  having  distributed 
part  of  his  just-received  present,  is  debating  what 
to  do  with  the  rest,  it  is  unblushingly  carried 
off  by  a  chance  visitor,  who  invites  its  owner 
to  join  in  eating  it  in  the  form  of  a  pasty  :  — 

"  When  come  to  the  place  where  we  all  were  to  dine, 
(A  chair-lumber'd  closet  just  twelve  feet  by  nine  : ) 
My  friend  bade  me  welcome,  but  struck  me  quite  dumb, 
With  tidings  that  Johnson  and  Burke  would  not  come; 
'  For  I  knew  it,'  he  cried,  '  both  eternally  fail, 
The  one  with  his  speeches,  and  t'  other  with  Thrale ; 
But  no  matter,  I  '11  warrant  we  '11  make  up  the  party 
With  two  full  as  clever,  and  ten  times  as  hearty. 
The  one  is  a  Scotchman,  the  other  a  Jew, 
They  ['re]  both  of  them  merry  and  authors  like  you ; 
The  one  writes  the  Sjiarlcr,  the  other  the  Scourge  ; 
Some  think  he  writes  Cifina  — he  owns  to  Panurge' 
While  thus  he  describ'd  them  by  trade  and  by  name, 
They  enter'd,  and  dinner  was  serv'd  as  they  came. 

"  At  the  top  a  fried  liver  and  bacon  were  seen, 
At  the  bottom  was  tripe  in  a  swinging  tureen ; 
At  the  sides  there  was  spinage  and  pudding  made  hot ; 
In  the  middle  a  place  where  the  pasty —  was  not. 
Now,  my  Lord,  as  for  tripe,  it 's  my  utter  aversion, 
And  your  bacon  I  hate  like  a  Turk  or  a  Persian  ; 
So  there  I  sat  stuck,  like  a  horse  in  a  pound, 
While  the  bacon  and  liver  went  merrily  round. 


A  Memoir  203 

But  what  vex'd  me  most  was  that  d 'd  Scottish  rogue, 

With   his   long-winded   speeches,    his    smiles,    and   his 

brogue ; 
And,  *  Madam,'  quoth  he,  '  may  this  bit  be  my  poison, 
A  prettier  dinner  I  never  set  eyes  on ; 
Pray  a  slice  of  your  liver,  though  may  I  be  curs'd, 
But  I  've  eat  of  your  tripe  till  I  'm  ready  to  burst.' 
'  The  tripe,'  quoth  the  Jew,  with  his  chocolate  cheek, 
'  I  could  dine  on  this  tripe  seven  days  in  the  week : 
I  like  these  here  dinners  so  pretty  and  small ; 
But  your  friend  there,  the  Doctor,  eats  nothing  at  all.' 
'  O  — Oh  ! '  quoth  my  friend,  'he  '11  come  on  in  a  trice, 
He  's  keeping  a  corner  for   something  that  's  nice  : 
There  's  a  pasty '  —  'A  pasty  !  '  repeated  the  Jew, 

*  I  don't  care  if  I  keep  a  corner  for 't  too.' 

'  What  the  de'il,  mon,  a  pasty  ! '  re-echoed  the  Scot, 
'  Though  splitting,  I  '11  still  keep  a  corner  for  thot.* 
'  We  '11  all  keep  a  corner,'  the  lady  cried  out ; 

*  We  '11  all  keep  a  corner,'  was  echoed  about. 
While  thus  we  resolv'd,  and  the  pasty  delay'd, 
With  looks  that  quite  petrified,  entered  the  maid  ; 
A  visage  so  sad,  and  so  pale  with  affright, 
Wak'd  Priam  in  drawing  his  curtains  by  night. 

But  we  quickly  found  out,  for  who  could  mistake  her  ? 
That  she  came  with  some  terrible  news  from  the  baker : 
And  so  it  fell  out,  for  that  negligent  sloven 
Had  shut  out  the  pasty  on  shutting  his  oven." 

As  a  piece  of  graphic,  easy  humour  Gold- 
smith has  not  often  bettered  this.  The  refer- 
ences to  Johnson  and  Burke,  the  side-strokes 
(perfectly  perceptible  to  Lord  Clare)  at  Parson 


204  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Scott  in  **Cinna"  and  "  Panurge,"  the  vulgar 
effusiveness  of  the  hungry  North  Briton,  and 
the  neat  fidelity  of  the  Jew's  "  I  like  these  here 
dinners  so  pretty  and  small  "  —  are  all  perfect  in 
their  way.  Nor  should  the  skill  with  which 
Goldsmith  manages  to  suggest  that  he  is 
"among"  but  not  "  of"  the  company,  be  over- 
looked. Indeed,  it  would,  in  some  respects,  be 
more  difficult  to  match  a  passage  of  this  kind 
than  anything  in  "The  Traveller"  or  "The 
Deserted  Village."  ^ 

On  the  24th  of  August,  1770  (when  Gold- 
smith was  at  Paris  with  the  Hornecks),  Thomas 
Chatterton  had  committed  suicide  in  his  Hol- 
born  garret,  and  one  of  the  topics  of  conversa- 
tion at  the  first  dinner  of  the  Royal  Academy  on 
the  23rd  of  April,  1771  (St.  George's  Day),  was 
his  genius  and  his  untimely  fate.  From  a 
memorandum  afterwards  drawn  up  by  Horace 
"Walpole,  it  seems  that  Goldsmith  was  one  of 
the  believers  in  the  Rowley  poems.  "  I  thought 
no  more,"  says  Walpole,  referring  to  his  inter- 

1  At  this  point  Mr.  Forster  interposes  an  account  of  an 
undated  translation  by  Goldsmith  of  Marco  Vida's 
"  Game  of  Chess,"  first  published  by  Cunningham  in  1854 
from  the  original  MS.  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Bolton 
Corney.  It  is  written  in  heroic  measure  ;  but  makes  no 
particular  addition  to  Goldsmith's  poetical  reputation. 


A  Memoir  205 

course  with  the  Bristol  genius,  "  of  him  or 
them  [his  poems],  till  about  a  year  and  a  half 
after,  when  dining  at  the  Royal  Academy,  Dr. 
Goldsmith  drew  the  attention  of  the  company 
with  the  account  of  a  marvellous  treasure  of 
ancient  poems  lately  discovered  at  Bristol,  and 
expressed  enthusiastic  belief  in  them,  for  which 
he  was  laughed  at  by  Dr.  Johnson,  who  was 
present.  I  soon  found  this  to  be  the  trouvaille 
of  my  friend  Chatterton,  and  I  told  Dr.  Gold- 
smith that  this  novelty  was  none  to  me,  who 
might,  if  I  had  pleased,  have  had  the  honour  of 
ushering  the  great  discovery  to  the  learned 
world.  You  may  imagine,  sir,  we  did  not  at  all 
agree  in  the  measure  of  our  faith  ;  but  though 
his  credulity  diverted  me,  my  mirth  was  soon 
dashed,  for  on  asking  about  Chatterton,  he  told 
me  he  had  been  in  London,  and  had  destroyed 
himself."^  Goldsmith,  upon  another  occasion, 
took  up  the  cudgels  for  the  poems  against  Percy 
so  hotly,  that  Percy,  who  had  much  of  the 
Northumberland  temper,  retorted  with  equal 
warmth,  and  a  breach  ensued,  which  was  not  at 
once  repaired.  The  only  other  anecdote  with 
respect  to  this  matter  relates  that  Goldsmith  was 
at  one  time  anxious  to  become  the  purchaser  of 

1  A  Letter  to  the  Editor  of  the  IMiscellanies  of  Thomas 
Chatterton  [by  Horace  Walpole],  1779,  pp.  37-8. 


2o6  Oliver  Goldsmith 

the  Rowley  MSS.  But  as  the  only  considera- 
tion proposed  was  a  promissory  note,  Mr. 
George  Catcott,  their  possessor,  replied  drily 
that  a  poet's  note  of  hand  would  scarcely  pass 
current  on  the  Bristol  Exchange. 

Shortly  after  his  return  from  Lord  Clare's, 
Goldsmith,  under  pressure  of  literary  labour, 
again  resorted  to  the  solitude  of  the  country. 
He  took  a  room  in  a  farmhouse  near  the  six- 
mile  stone  on  the  Edgeware  Road,  carrying 
down  his  books  in  two  returned  post-chaises. 
This  room,  says  Prior,  he  continued  to  use  as 
a  summer  residence  until  his  death,  and  here 
great  part  of  his  "  Animated  Nature,"  his 
"  History  of  Greece  "  and  other  later  compila- 
tions was  written.  It  was  an  airy  chamber  up 
one  pair  of  stairs,  looking  cheerfully  over  a 
wooded  landscape  towards  Hendon,  and  when 
visited  by  Boswell  and  Mickle  of  the  "  Lusiads  " 
in  the  following  year,  was  found  to  be  scrawled 
all  over  with  "■  curious  scraps  of  descriptions  of 
animals."  ^  Such  memories  of  Goldsmith  at  this 
date  as  survive,  represent  him  wandering  in  the 
fields,  or  musing  under  hedges,  or  now  and 
then  taking  his  station  abstractedly  in  front  of 
Farmer  Selby's  kitchen  fire.  Often  he  would 
depart  suddenly  for  Brick  Court,  where  he 
1  Hill's  Boswell's  Johnson,  1887,  ii,  182. 


A  Memoir  207 

would  remain  for  a  week  or  more.  On  other 
occasions  a  dance  would  be  improvised,  or  he 
would  treat  the  younger  members  of  the  family 
to  the  diversion  of  the  strolling  players.  At  in- 
tervals he  was  visited  by  some  of  his  London 
friends.  Reynolds,  Chambers,  and  even  John- 
son are  believed  to  have  been  thus  entertained, 
upon  which  occasions  of  state  he  migrated  to 
his  landlord's  parlour.  By  the  farmer's  family 
he  was  known  as  "The  Gentleman,"  and  was 
regarded  as  slightly  eccentric.  But  here,  as 
everywhere,  the  recollection  of  his  kindliness 
and  generosity  lingered  in  men's  minds.  No 
tramp  or  beggar  ever  applied  to  him  in  vain. 

In  August,  1771,  the  "  History  of  England" 
was  published,  and  to  this  and  another  work 
upon  which  he  had  been  engaged  he  refers  in  a 
letter  addressed  from  the  Temple  to  Bennet 
Langton,  "at  Langton,  near  Spilsby,  in  Lincoln- 
shire," and  dated  the  17th  of  the  following  Sep- 
tember. "  I  have  published,  or  Davies  has 
published  for  me,''  he  says,  "  an  Abridgment  of 
the  History  of  England,  for  which  I  have  been  a 
good  deal  abused  in  the  newspapers  for  betray- 
ing the  liberties  of  the  people.  God  knows  I 
had  no  thought  for  or  against  liberty  in  my 
head  ;  my  whole  aim  being  to  make  up  a  book 
of  a  decent  size,  that,  as  '  Squire  Richard  says. 


2o8  Oliver  Goldsmith 

would  do  no  harm  to  nobody.  However  they 
set  me  down  as  an  arrant  Tory,  and  conse- 
quently an  honest  man.  When  you  come  to 
look  at  any  part  of  it,  you'll  say  that  I  am  a  sour 
Whig."^  On  other  of  his  occupations  also  the 
letter  throws  light.  The  "■  Natural  History," 
he  says,  is  about  half-finished  ;  and  he  will 
shortly  finish  the  rest,  he  adds,  with  a  sigh  over 
"  this  kind  of  finishing,"  and  his  "  scurvy  cir- 
cumstances." But  he  has  been  doing  something 
—  he  has  for  the  last  three  months  been  trying 
"  to  make  people  laugh."  He  has  been  strol- 
ling about  the  hedges,  "  studying  jests  with  the 
most  tragical  countenance."  This,  with  an- 
other passage  at  the  beginning  of  the  letter,  in 
which  he  says  he  has  "  been  almost  wholly  in 
the  country  at  a  farmer's  house,  quite  alone,  try- 
ing to  write  a  comedy,"'^  is  the  first  indication 
of  his  having  again  turned  his  attention  to  the 
stage.  The  new  play  was  now  finished,  but 
when  or  how  it  would  be  acted,  or  whether  it 
would  be  acted  at  all,  were  questions  he  could 
not  resolve. 

The  occurrences  which  intervened  between 
its  completion  and  production  may  be  rapidly 
abridged.     One  of  the  occasional  pieces  of  this 

^  MisccUaneotis  Works,  1801,  i,  93. 
2  Ibid.,  i,  92. 


A  Memoir  209 

date  was  a  prologue  to  "  Zobeide,"  a  transla- 
tion or  adaptation  of  an  unfinished  tragedy  by 
Voltaire  called  "  Les  Scythes."  Its  author 
was  a  gentleman  of  Leicestershire  named  Joseph 
Cradock,  who,  about  this  time,  had  been  intro- 
duced to  Goldsmith  by  Yates,  the  actor,  and 
maintained  a  fast  friendship  for  him  during  the 
remainder  of  his  life  —  a  friendship  concerning 
which  Cradock,  in  his  old  age,  published  some 
rather  mythical  recollections.  In  February, 
1772,  the  death  of  the  Princess  Dowager  of 
Wales  prompted  Goldsmith,  for  some  unex- 
plained reason,  to  prepare  a  lament-to-order, 
which  he  entitled  "■  Threnodia  Augustalis."  It 
was  sung  and  recited  at  the  famous  Mrs. 
Cornelys'  in  Soho  Square,  but  has  little  more 
than  the  merit  of  opportunism,  and  was  very 
hastily  composed.  Between  these  two  comes, 
in  all  probability,  the  lively  letter  in  prose  and 
verse  to  Catherine  Horneck,  now  Mrs.  Bun- 
bury  of  Barton,  first  published  by  Prior  in  18^7, 
from  the  Bunbury  papers.  Under  cover  of  a 
reply  to  an  invitation  to  spend  Christmas  in  the 
country,  the  letter  goes  off  into  a  charming 
piece  of  rhyming  banter,  in  which  Mrs.  Bun- 
bury  and  her  sister  are  arraigned  at  the  Old 
Bailey  for  giving  disingenuous  counsel  to  the 
poet  at  Loo  :  — 

14 


2IO  Oliver  Goldsmith 

*'  Both  are  placed  at  the  bar,  with  all  proper  decorum, 
With  bunches  of  fennel  and  nosegays  before  'em ;  i 
Both  cover  their  faces  with  mobs  and  all  that, 
But  the  judge  bids  them,  angrily,  take  off  their  hat. 
When  uncover'd,  a  buzz  of  inquiry  runs  round  — 

*  Pray  what  are  their  crimes  ?'  — '  They  've  been  pilfer- 

ing found.' 
'  But,  pray,  who[m]  have  they  pilfer'd  ? '  —  'A  doctor, 
I  hear.' 

*  What,  yon  solemn-faced,  odd-looking  man  that  stands 

near  ! ' 
'  The  same.'  —  *  What  a  pity  1  how  does  it  surprise  one, 
Two  handsomer  culprits  I  never  set  eyes  on!' 
Then  their  friends  all  come    round  me  with  cringing 

and  leering. 
To  melt  me  to  pity,  and  soften  my  swearing. 
First  Sir  Charles  advances  with  phrases  well  strung, 

*  Consider,  dear  Doctor,  the  girls  are  but  young ; ' 
The  younger  the  worse,'  I  return  him  again, 

'  It  shows  that  their  habits  are  all  dyed  in  grain.' 

'  But  then  they  're  so  handsome,  one's  bosom  it  grieves. 

*  What  signifies  handsome,  when  people  are  thieves  ? ' 
'  But  where  is  your  justice  ?  their  cases  are  hard.' 

'  What  signifiesyV/j/Zc^  ?     I  want  the  reward.'  " 

And  then  the  letter,  with  its  ingenuity  of  com- 
pliment, heightened  by  the  touch  as  to  that 
"  solemn-faced,  odd-looking  man,"  the  writer, 
drops  into  parish-beadle  recitative  and  ends :  — 

^  A  practice  dating  from  the  gaol-fever  of  1750. 
Compare  the  Old  Bailey  scene  in  Cruikshank's  "  Drunk- 
ard's Children,"  1848,  plate  v. 


A  Memoir  211 

" '  But  consider  their  case,  —  it  may  yet  be  your  own  ! 
And  see  how  they  kneel !    Is  your  heart  made  of  stone?' 
This  moves  :  —  so  at  last  I  agree  to  relent, 
For  ten  pounds  in  hand,  and  ten  pounds  to  be  spent. 

I  challenge  you  all  to  answer  this  :  I  tell  you,  you  cannot. 
It  cuts  deep; — but  now  for  the  rest  of  the  letter:  and 
next —  but  I  want  room  —  so  I  believe  I  shall  battle  the 
rest  out  at  Barton  some  day  next  week. 

"  I  don't  value  you  all  ! 

"  O.  G." 

By  this  time,  retouched  and  revised,  the 
comedy  of  which  Goldsmith  had  written  to 
Langton,  was  in  Colman's  hands.  Unhappily, 
in  Colman's  hands  it  remained.  At  the  end 
of  1772  he  had  not  made  up  his  mind  whether 
he  would  say  "yes"  or  "  no"  to  Goldsmith's 
repeated  applications  for  his  decision  —  appli- 
cations which  the  poet's  necessities  made  upon 
each  occasion  more  importunate.  In  January, 
1773,  referring  to  these,  he  pressed  urgently 
for  a  final  reply.  He  petitioned  for  at  least 
the  same  measure  which  had  been  given  to  "  as 
bad  plays  as  his,"  and  he  even  humbled  himself 
so  far  as  to  offer  to  make  alterations.  Thereupon 
Colman  took  him  at  his  word,  and  suggested 
numerous  frivolous  amendments,  under  the 
momentary  irritation  of  which  the  smarting  poet 
offered  the  manuscript  to  Garrick,  withdrawing 


212 


Oliver  Goldsmith 


it  again  as  speedily.  Then  stout  old  Johnson 
took  the  matter  up,  using  the  strongest  per- 
suasions (even  "  a  kind  of  force")  to  Colman, 
the  result  being  that  a  definite  promise  to 
produce  the  play  was  at  length  wrung  from 
that  potentate,  although  against  his  judgment. 
"  Dr.  Goldsmith,"  wrote  Johnson  shortly  after- 
wards, "  has  a  new  comedy  in  rehearsal  at 
Covent  Garden,  to  which  the  manager  predicts 
ill-success.  I  hope  he  will  be  mistaken.  I 
think  it  deserves  a  very  kind  reception."^ 

The  production  at  the  Haymarket  in  Febru- 
ary of  Foote's  famous  Primitive  Puppet  Show 
of  the  "  Handsome  Housemaid  ;  or,  Piety  in 
Pattens,"  which  certainly  counts  as  an  impor- 
tant factor  in  the  story  of  the  crusade  against 
sentimental  comedy,  opportunely  aided  in  pre- 
paring the  popular  taste.  But  the  fates  were, 
even  now,  too  much  against  Goldsmith  to  make 
his  success  an  easy  one.  The  prejudice  of 
Colman  communicated  itself  to  the  company, 
and  one  after  another  of  the  leading  actors  threw 
up  their  parts.  That  of  the  first  gentleman  fell 
to  Lee  Lewes,  the  theatrical  harlequin,  while 
the  best  character  in  the  piece  was  assigned  to 
Quick,  who,  in  "The  Good  Natur'd  Man," 
had  filled  no  more  important  office  than  that 
1  Hill's  Boswell's  Johnson,  1887,  ii,  208. 


A  Memoir  213 

of  a  post-boy.  Fresh  troubles  arose  respect- 
ing the  epilogue,  of  which  no  less  than  four 
different  versions  were  written,  in  consequence 
of  objections  raised  by  the  manager  and  the 
actresses.  Finally,  until  a  few  days  before 
the  play  appeared,  it  was  still  without  a  name. 
Reynolds  advocated  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem," 
a  title  afterwards  used  by  Mrs.  Cowley;  some 
one  else  "The  Old  House  a  New  Inn,"  which 
certainly  summarised  the  main  idea,  borrowed 
from  Goldsmith's  Ardagh  experiences  as  nar- 
rated in  chapter  i.  ;  while  for  some  time  "The 
Mistakes  of  a  Night"  found  a  measure  of 
favour.  Then  Goldsmith,  perhaps  remember- 
ing, as  Mr.  Forster  suggests,  a  line  from  Dry- 
den,  fixed  upon  "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  to 
which  "  The  Mistakes  of  a  Night  "  was  added 
as  a  sub-title.  On  the  i  ^th  of  March,  1773,  the 
play  was  acted  at  Covent  Garden,  and  a  few 
days  afterwards  published  in  book  form,  with  a 
dedication  to  its  firm  friend,  Johnson.  "  I  do 
not  mean,"  wrote  the  grateful  author,  "  so  much 
to  compliment  you  as  myself.  It  may  do  me  some 
honour  to  inform  the  public,  that  I  have  lived 
many  years  in  intimacy  with  you.  It  may  serve 
the  interests  of  mankind  also  to  inform  them,  that 
the  greatest  wit  may  be  found  in  a  character, 
without  impairing  the  most  unaffected  piety." 


214  Oliver  Goldsmith 

To  the  very  last  Colman  maintained  his  un- 
hopeful attitude,  in  spite  of  the  steady  en- 
thusiasm of  the  author's  friends,  who,  after 
dining  together  at  a  tavern,  had,  under  John- 
son's generalship,  proceeded  in  a  body  to  the 
theatre,  determined  to  make  a  stubborn  fight 
for  the  piece.  But,  according  to  the  best 
accounts,  there  was  no  necessity  for  any  ad- 
vocacy, hostile  or  otherwise,  for,  "  quite  the 
reverse  to  everybody's  expectation,"  the  play 
was  received  "  with  the  utmost  applause." 
Even  Horace  Walpole,  who  sneered  aristocrat- 
ically at  its  "  lowness,"  and  wrote  flippantly 
about  the  author's  draggled  Muse,  could  not 
deny  that  it  "  succeeded  prodigiously."  "  All 
eyes,"  says  Cumberland,  "  were  upon  Johnson, 
who  sat  in  a  front  row  of  a  side  box,  and  when 
he  laughed  everybody  thought  himself  war- 
ranted to  roar."^  In  the  mean  time,  the  poor 
author,  who  had  not  dared  to  accompany  his 
party  to  Covent  Garden,  was  wandering  dis- 
consolately in  the  Mall.  Here  he  was  discov- 
ered by  a  friend,  who  pointed  out  to  him  that, 
in  the  event  of  any  sudden  alterations  being 
required,  his  absence  from  the  theatre  might 
have  serious  results,  and  prevailed  upon  him  to 
go  there.  "  He  entered  the  stage  door,"  Cook 
1  Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland,  1S07,  i,  368. 


A  Memoir  215 

tells  us,  "  just  in  the  middle  of  the  5th  Act, 
when  there  was  a  hiss  at  the  improbability  of 
Mrs.  Hardcastle  supposing  herself  forty  miles 
off,  though  on  her  own  grounds,  and  near  the 
house.  '  What 's  that } '  says  the  Doctor,  terri- 
fied at  the  sound.  '  Psha  !  Doctor,'  says  Col- 
man,  who  was  standing  by  the  side  of  the  scene, 
*  don't  be  fearful  of  squibs,  when  we  have  been 
sitting  almost  these  two  hours  upon  a  barrel 
of  gunpowder.'  "  ^  Goldsmith,  adds  Cook,  never 
forgave  Colman  this  gratuitous  piece  of  malice. 
The  success  of  "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer" 
was  thoroughly  deserved.  It  was  an  immense 
improvement  upon  its  predecessor.  Compared 
with  Croaker  and  Lofty,  Tony  Lumpkin  and 
Mr.  Hardcastle  are  as  characters  to  characteris- 
tics, while  Mrs.  Hardcastle,  Hastings,  Young 
Marlowe,  Miss  Hardcasile,  and  Miss  Neville, 
are  far  beyond  the  Honeywoods  and  Richlands 
of  "  The  Good  Natur'd  Man."  Whatever  there 
may  be  of  farcical  in  the  plot,  vanished  before 
the  hearty  laughter  that  the  piece  raised  on  its 
first  appearance,  and  has  raised  ever  since.  "  I 
know  of  no  comedy  for  many  years  (said  John- 
son) that  has  answered  so  much  the  great  end 
of    comedy  —  making    an    audience    merry." ^ 

^  European  Mm^azine,  September,  1793,  p.  173. 
2  Hill's  Y>Q^\s&Vi!s,  Johtison,  1887,  ii,  233. 


2i6  Oliver  Goldsmith 

That  such  an  inexhaustible  bequest  of  mirth 
should  have  come  to  us  from  a  man  tortured 
with  nervous  apprehensions,  and  struggling 
with  money  difficulties,  is  a  triumphant  testi- 
mony to  the  superiority  of  genius  over  circum- 
stance. It  is  consolatory  to  think  that,  in  spite 
of  every  obstacle,  "She  Stoops  to  Conquer" 
was  acted  for  many  nights,  and,  besides  being 
twice  commanded  by  royalty  itself,  brought  its 
author,  at  his  benefits,  the  more  substantial 
gratification  of  some  four  or  five  hundred 
pounds,  to  which  must  be  added  a  further 
amount  from  the  publication  of  the  play  in  book 
form. 


CHAPTER   XI 

A  libellous  attack  and  its  sequel;  dining  out  at  Oglethorpe's  and 
Paoli's;  "The  Grumbler";  more  task  work;  "Grecian  His- 
tory " ;  "  Dictionary  of  Arts  and  Sciences  "  ;  "  Retaliation  "  ; 
epitaphs  on  Garrick  and  Reynolds  ;  epitaph  on  Caleb  White- 
foord  ;  last  illness;  dies,  April  4,  1774  ;  buried  on  the  9th  in 
the burying-ground  of  the  Temple  Church;  Johnson's  epitaph; 
memorials  and  statue. 

TTrHILE  the  "news-paper  witlings"  and 
^  "  pert  scribbling  folks  "  ^  vied  with  each 
other  in  exulting  over  the  glorious  defeat,  by 
''She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  of  the  allied  forces 
of  sentimental  comedy,  and  amused  themselves 
by  planting  arrowy  little  epigrams  in  the  sides 
of  Mr.  Manager  Colman  and  Mr.  Staymaker 
Kelly,  insomuch  that  the  former  implored  the 
author  "  to  take  him  off  the  rack  of  the  news- 
papers/' there  were  not  wanting  those  who, 
on  the  other  hand,  essayed  to  disparage  Gold- 
smith himself.  In  The  London  Packet  of  the 
24th  of  March  appeared  a  letter  signed  "  Tom 
Tickle,"  headed  by  the  motto  "  Vous  vous 
noye\  par  vanite,''''  and  attacking  him  venom- 
1  Postscript  to  Retaliation. 


2i8  Oliver  Goldsmith 

ously  at  all  points.  He  was  charged  with 
puffing  his  own  productions:  his  "Traveller" 
was  said  to  be  "a  flimsy  poem,  built  upon  false 
principles ;  "  his  "  Good  Natur'd  Man,"  a 
"  poor,  water-gruel,  dramatic  dose  ;  "  his  "  De- 
serted Village,"  "  easy  numbers,  without  fancy, 
dignity,  genius,  or  fire;"  and  "She  Stoops  to 
Conquer,"  a  "  speaking  pantomime  "  and  "  an 
incoherent  piece  of  stuff"."  Lastly,  he  was  en- 
joined to  "  reduce  his  vanity,"  and  to  endeavour 
to  believe  that,  as  a  man,  he  "■  was  of  the  plain- 
est sort ;  and  as  an  author,  but  a  mortal  piece 
of  mediocrity."  ^ 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  dealer  of  this 
stab  in  the  dark  was  Goldsmith's  old  enemy, 
Kenrick,  and  the  mere  abuse  which  it  contained 
was  of  little  moment.  But  towards  the  begin- 
ning of  the  letter,  where  Goldsmith  is  accused 
of  being  a  very  Narcissus  for  pleased  contem- 
plation of  his  personal  advantages,  it  goes  on : 
"  Was  but  the  lovely  H k  as  much  enam- 
oured, you  would  not  sigh,  my  gentle  swain,  in 
vain."''  This,  it  must  be  admitted,  was  unpar- 
donable, and  Goldsmith  was  justly  indignant. 
According  to  Cradock,  to  make  matters  worse, 
he  dined  with  the  Hornecks  in  Westminster  al- 

1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  40S,  409. 

2  Ibid.,  ii,  408, 


A  Memoir  C19 

most  immediately  after  they  had  read  the  article, 
and  found  them  all  greatly  disturbed.  Dinner 
being  over,  he  went  straight  to  the  shop  of  the 
publisher,  a  Welshman  named  Evans,  in  Pater- 
noster Row,  accompanied,  says  one  account,  by 
the  lady's  brother,  Captain  Horneck,  or,  says 
another,  by  that  Captain  Higgins  who,  in  the 
"  Haunch  of  Venison,"  is  celebrated  "  for  mak- 
ing a  blunder,  or  picking  a  bone."  Mr.  Forster 
thinks  that  Higgins  is  most  likely  to  have  been 
the  poet's  companion  ;  but  if  Cradock's  state- 
ment as  to  his  dining  with  the  family  is  true,  it 
is  surely  not  improbable  that  he  should  have 
gone  with  Captain  Horneck.  However,  what 
happened  at  the  shop  was  communicated  to 
Prior  by  an  eye-witness,  Evans's  assistant,  Mr. 
Harris.  Being  asked  by  the  two  gentlemen 
whether  Evans  was  at  home,  he  says  :  "  I  called 
the  latter  from  an  adjoining  room  and  heard 
Goldsmith  say  to  him  —  '  I  have  called  in  con- 
sequence of  a  scurrilous  attack  in  your  paper  upon 
me  (my  name  is  Goldsmith),  and  an  unwarrant- 
able liberty  taken  with  the  name  of  a  young 
lady.  As  for  myself,  I  care  little,  but  her  name 
must  not  be  sported  with.'  Evans,  declaring  his 
ignorance  of  the  matter,  said  he  would  speak  to 
the  editor,  and  stooping  down  for  the  file  of  the 
paper  to  look  for  the  offensive  article,  the  poet 


220  Oliver  Goldsmith 

struck  him  smartly  with  his  cane  across  the 
back.  Evans,  who  was  sturdy,  returned  the 
blow  with  interest,  when,  in  the  scuffle,  a  lamp 
suspended  overhead  was  broken,  and  the  oil  fell 
upon  the  combatants  ;  one  of  the  shopmen  was 
sent  for  a  constable,  but  in  the  meantime  Dr. 
Kenrick,  who  had  been  all  the  time  in  the  ad- 
joining room,  and  who,  it  was  pretty  certain, 
was  really  author  of  the  newspaper  article,  came 
forward,  separated  the  parties,  and  sent  Gold- 
smith home  in  a  coach.  Captain  Horneck  ex- 
pressed his  surprise  at  the  assault,  declaring  he 
had  no  previous  intimation  of  such  a  design  on 
the  part  of  the  Poet,  who  had  merely  requested 
that  he  should  accompany  him  to  Paternoster 
Row.  Evans  took  steps  to  indict  him  for  an 
assault  ;  but  subsequently  a  compromise  took 
place  by  his  assailant  agreeing  to  pay  fifty 
pounds  to  a  Welsh  charity."  ^  This,  however, 
was  not  effected  until  after  Goldsmith  had 
written  a  dignified  letter  to  The  Daily  Adver- 
tiser  on  the  "licentiousness"  of  the  press, 
which,  as  may  be  supposed,  made  itself  very 
merry  over  his  misadventure.  Silence  would, 
no  doubt,  have  been  wiser  ;  though  even  John- 
son was  obliged  to  admit  that  the  letter  was  "  a 
foolish  thing  well  done." 

1  Prior's  Lt/e,  1837,  ii,  411-12. 


A  Memoir  221 

But  from  Goldsmith  scuffling  with  a  book- 
seller under  a  cataract  of  lamp-oil  —  certainly  a 
most  ill-advised  mode  of  "  stooping  to  con- 
quer," as  the  wits  did  not  fail  to  remind  him  — 
it  is  pleasant  to  turn  to  Goldsmith  chatting  and 
chirruping  in  the  company  of  his  friends.  A 
week  or  two  later  Boswell  gives  an  account  of 
a  dinner  at  General  Oglethorpe's  with  "  Dr. 
Major''  and  "  Dr.  Minor,''  when  Goldsmith 
held  forth  on  his  favourite  theme  of  luxury  and 
the  consequent  degeneration  of  the  race  —  a 
position  which  Johnson  contested.  After  dinner 
they  drank  tea  with  the  ladies,  to  whom  Gold- 
smith sang  Tony  Lumpkin's  capital  song  of  the 
"Three  Jolly  Pigeons,"  and  the  pretty  quatrains 
("Ah  me,  when  shall  I  marry  me?")  to  the 
tune  of  the  "  Humours  of  Balamagairy,"  which 
Boswell  published  some  years  later  in  The 
London  Magazine.  Moore  also  used  the  air  in 
the  "  Irish  Melodies  ;  "  but  scarcely  as  happily 
as  Goldsmith,  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the 
song  had  to  be  omitted  from  "  She  Stoops  to 
Conquer"  because  Mrs.  Bulkley  (who  played 
Miss  Hardcastle)  could  not  sing.  Goldsmith 
himself,  says  Boswell,  sang  it  very  agreeably. 
Two  days  later  the  trio  met  again  at  General 
Paoli's.  Boswell  chronicles  a  long  conversa- 
tion, the  only  portion  of  which  can  have  a  place 


22  2  Oliver  Goldsmith 

here  is  a  compliment  by  the  General  to  Gold- 
smith. Paoli  referred  to  a  passage  in  "  She 
Stoops  to  Conquer "  which  was  supposed, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  to  make  oblique  allusion  to 
the  recent  marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester 
and  Lady  Waldegrave.-^  That  "  literary  leech," 
Boswell,  ever  on  the  watch  for  ana,  forthwith 
attempted  to  entice  Goldsmith  into  an  admission 
of  this  intention.  He  smiled  and  hesitated  in  his 
usual  way  ;  and  the  General  came  to  his  aid. 
"  Monsieur  Goldsmith  est  comme  la  mer,  qui  jette 
des  perles  et  beaucoup  d^autrcs  belles  choses,  sans 
s'en  apercevoir.'"'  Goldsmith  was  highly  de- 
lighted. "  Trbs  bien  dit  et  trds  dUgamment,''' 
was  his  flattered  comment.  There  was  another 
dinner  at  Thrale's  still  later ;  but  it  can  have  no 
record  in  these  pages. 

In  August  his  gratitude  to  Shuter  for  his 
presentment  of  Tony  Lumpkin  prompted  him 
to  adapt  for  that  actor's  benefit  a  dull  play  by 
Brueys  and  Palaprat,  "  Le  Grondeur,"  which 
he  shortened  into  a  farce  under  the  title  of 
"  The  Grumbler."  It  was  produced  at  Covent 
Garden  on  the  8th  of  May  ;  but  never  received 

1  See  Act  ii.,  where  Hastings  says  :  "  If  my  dearest 
girl  will  trust  in  her  faithful  Hastings,  we  shall  soon  be 
landed  in  France,  where  even  among  slaves  the  laws  of 
marriage  are  respected." 


A  Memoir  223 

the  honours  of  repetition.  Prior  included  a 
scene  from  it  in  the  "  Miscellaneous  Works" 
of  1837,  and  it  is  generally  reprinted  with  the 
author's  other  plays.  But,  although  from  a 
note  written  in  this  year  to  Garrick,  he  appears 
to  have  been  still  dreaming  of  a  future  comedy, 
"in  a  season  or  two  at  farthest,"'^  which  he 
fancied  he  should  make  a  fine  thing,  he  was 
hopelessly  in  bondage  to  the  hack  work  by 
which  he  lived.  In  the  intervals  of  the  "  Ani- 
mated Nature"  he  had  been  engaged  with  a 
"  Grecian  History,"  for  which,  in  June,  1773, 
upon  the  completion  of  the  first  volume,  he 
received;^ 2^50  from  Griffin,  probably  a  nominal 
payment  only,  as  he  was  in  debt  to  the  pub- 
lisher for  arrears  already  due.  He  also  medi- 
tated a  popular  "  Dictionary  of  Arts  and 
Sciences,"  of  which  he  was  to  be  editor,  with 
Johnson,  Reynolds,  Burke,  Burney,  Garrick, 
and  all  his  friends  as  contributors.  For  this 
he  drew  up  an  elaborate  prospectus,  said  by 
Cradock  and  others  to  be  excellently  conceived, 
but  no  longer  known  to  exist.  The  booksellers, 
however,  shrank  from  so  large  an  enterprise, 
and  the  matter  made  no  progress.  Perhaps, 
too,  as  Davies  and  others  suggest,  they  dis- 
trusted   the    organising   capacity    of  a   worker 

1  Prior's  Life,  1S37,  ii,  439. 


224  Oliver  Goldsmith 

so  needy,  so  overburdened,  and  so  irregular  in 
his  habits.  Queer  errors  sometimes  made  their 
appearance  in  his  rapidly  written  books.  There 
had  been  such  in  his  histories,  and  an  anecdote 
is  told  by  Dawson  Turner  which  shows  that 
he  must  often  have  been  hasty  as  to  his  authori- 
ties. Once,  when  engaged  on  the  "  History 
of  Greece,"  he  asked  Gibbon  the  name  of  the 
Indian  king  who  gave  Alexander  so  much 
trouble,  and  when  Gibbon  jestingly  answered, 
"  Montezuma,"  he  had  to  correct  himself  im- 
mediately lest  Goldsmith  should  commit  the 
statement  to  type. 

In  the  collapse  of  the  Dictionary  scheme  his 
thoughts  reverted  to  "  The  Good  Natur'd 
Man,"  and  he  wrote  to  Garrick  offering  to 
recast  that  comedy,  at  the  same  time  asking 
for  a  loan,  Garrick  lent  the  money  ;  but  did 
not  accept  the  proposal,  which  he  labelled 
"  Goldsmith's  parlaver  "  and  put  away.  After 
this  there  is  not  much  to  relate  in  Goldsmith's 
life,  which,  notwithstanding  the  growing  burden 
of  breaking  health  and  increased  embarrassment, 
seems  still  to  have  had  its  delights.  There  are 
glimpses  of  him  at  Drury  Lane  on  the  first  night 
of  Kelly's  comedy  of  the  "  School  for  Wives  ;  " 
at  Beauclerk's  with  Garrick,  making  an  entire 
company  shriek  with  laughter  over  some  panto- 


A  Memoir  225 

mimic  buffoonery  ;  at  Vauxhall  with  Sir  Joshua. 
"  Sir  Joshua  and  Goldsmith,"  writes  Beau- 
clerk,  as  late  as  February,  1774,  "have  got 
into  such  a  round  of  pleasures  that  they  have 
no  time."^  And  in  these  last  days  an  accident 
brought  about  the  composition  of  one  of  his 
cleverest  pieces,  which,  although  never  com- 
pleted, will  probably  be  remembered  as  long  as 
"  The  Deserted  Village."  According  to  the 
now  accepted  story,  a  party  at  the  St.  James's 
Coffee-house,  prompted  thereto  by  some  gas- 
conade of  Goldsmith,  fell  into  the  whim  of 
writing  competitive  epitaphs  upon  him.  Garrick 
led  off  with  the  well-known  impromptu  : 

"Here  lies  Nolly  Goldsmith,  for  shortness  called  Noll, 
Who  wrote  like  an  angel,  but  talked  like  poor  Poll ;  " 

and  others  followed.  Goldsmith,  rather  discon- 
certed by  the  ready  applause  which  followed 
Garrick's  neat  antithesis,  deferred  the  revenge 
which  he  was  invited  to  take,  and  continued  to 
work  desultorily  at  his  reply  until  a  few  days 
before  his  death,  shortly  after  which  it  was 
published  by  Kearsly  under  the  name  of  "  Re- 
taliation:  Including  Epitaphs  on  the  Most 
Distinguished  Wits  of  the  Metropolis."  By  a 
recollection  of  the  famous  picnic  dinners  of 
1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  510. 
15 


226  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Scarron  (whose  "  Roman  Comique,"  among 
other  hack-work,  he  had  just  been  translating), 
he  began  with  likening  his  friends  to  dishes,  but 
speedily  wound  into  that  incomparable  series  of 
epigrammatic  portraits  which  is  to-day  one  of 
the  most  graphic  picture-galleries  of  his  immedi- 
ate contemporaries.  Johnson  is  conspicuously 
absent,  perhaps  because,  though  one  of  the 
company,  he  had  not  joined  in  the  initial  attack, 
—  perhaps,  also,  because  the  poem  is  un- 
finished ;  but  Burke,  Reynolds,  Cumberland, 
and  Garrick  are  admirably  portrayed.  Between 
these,  in  point  of  literary  art,  there  is  little  to 
choose,  unless  the  mingling  of  satire,  compli- 
ment, and  faithful  characterisation  is  held  to 
reach  its  acme  in  the  admirable  lines  on 
Garrick  :  — 

"  Here  lies  David  Garrick,  describe  me,  who  can, 
An  abridgment  of  all  that  was  pleasant  in  man  ; 
As  an  actor,  confess'd  without  rival  to  shine : 
As  a  wit,  if  not  first,  in  the  very  first  line  : 
Yet,  with  talents  like  these,  and  an  excellent  heart. 
The  man  had  his  failings,  a  dupe  to  his  art. 
Like  an  ill-judging  beauty,  his  colours  he  spread, 
And  beplaster'd  with  rouge  his  own  natural  red. 
On  the  stage  he  was  natural,  simple,  affecting  ; 
'T  was  only  that  when  he  was  off  he  was  acting. 
With  no  reason  on  earth  to  go  out  of  his  way, 
He  turn'd  and  he  varied  full  ten  times  a  day. 


A  Memoir  227 

Though  secure  of  our  hearts,  yet  confoundedly  sick 

If  they  were  not  his  own  by  finessing  and  triclc  : 

He  cast  off  his  friends,  as  a  huntsman  his  pack, 

For  he  knew  when  he  pleas'd  he  could  whistle  them  back. 

Of  praise  a  mere  glutton,  he  swallow'd  what  came, 

And  the  puff  of  a  dunce  he  mistook  it  for  fame ; 

Till  his  relish  grown  callous,  almost  to  disease, 

Who  pepper'd  the  highest  was  surest  to  please. 

But  let  us  be  candid,  and  speak  out  our  mind, 

If  dunces  applauded,  he  paid  them  in  kind. 

Ye  Kendricks,  ye  Kellys,  and  Woodfalls  so  grave, 

What  a  commerce  was  yours,  while  you  got  and  you  gave  1 

How  did  Grub  Street  re-echo  the  shouts  that  you  rais'd, 

While  he  was  be-Roscius'd,  and  you  were  be-prais'd  I 

But  peace  to  his  spirit,  wherever  it  flies. 

To  act  as  an  angel,  and  mix  with  the  skies : 

Those  poets,  who  owe  their  best  fame  to  his  skill, 

Shall  still  be  his  flatterers,  go  where  he  will. 

Old  Shakespeare,  receive  him,  with  praise  and  with  love. 

And  Beaumonts  and  Bens  be  his  Kellys  above !  " 

"  The  sum  of  all  that  can  be  said  for  and 
against  Mr.  Garrick,  some  people  think,  may 
be  found  in  these  lines  of  Goldsmith,"  wrote 
Thomas  Davies.^  When  Garrick's  own  biogra- 
pher is  obliged  to  admit  so  much,  there  can  be 
little  doubt  of  the  accuracy  of  the  portrait. 
Next  in  importance  to  this,  composed  in  an 
inimitable  spirit  of  irony,  comes  the  sketch  of 
Cumberland,  which,  in  his  old  age,  that  writer 
seems  to  have  grown  to  regard  as  entirely  com- 

1  Life  of  Garriik,  1780,  ii,  159. 


2  28  Oliver  Goldsmith 

plimentary.  Burke's  character,  too,  contains 
some  famous  couplets,  seldom  forgotten  when 
his  name  is  recalled.  But  the  most  delightful, 
because  the  most  wholly  genial  and  kindly,  of 
the  epitaphs,  is  that  upon  Reynolds:  — 

"  Here  Reynolds  is  laid,  and,  to  tell  you  my  mind, 
He  has  not  left  a  better  or  wiser  behind  : 
His  pencil  was  striking,  resistless,  and  grand ; 
His  manners  were  gentle,  complying,  and  bland  ; 
Still  born  to  improve  us  in  every  part, 
His  pencil  our  faces,  his  manners  our  heart : 
To  coxcombs  averse,  yet  most  civilly  steering, 
When  they  judg'd  without  skill  he  was  still  hard  of 

hearing  : 
"When  they  talked  of  their  Raphaels,  Correggios,  and 

stuff, 
He  shifted  his  trumpet,  and  only  took  snufF." 

Malone  says  that  half  a  line  more  had  been 
written  when  Goldsmith  dropped  the  pen  ;  and 
Prior,  who  gives  the  words  as  "  By  flattery  un- 
spoiled," affirms  that,  among  several  erasures  in 
the  manuscript,  they  "  remained  unaltered."  ^ 
To  the  fifth  edition  was  appended  a  "  Post- 
script," containing  a  supplementary  epitaph  on 
Caleb  Whitefoord,  who  had  also  been  one  of 
the  party  at  the  St.  James's  Coffee-house,  and 
was  the  inventor  of  the  famous  "  Cross-Read- 
1  Prior's  Life,  1837,  ii,  499- 


A  Memoir  229 

ings,"  which  proved  so  popular  circa  1766-70. 
It  presents  some  of  Goldsmith's  peculiarities 
and  negligences  ;  but  is  not  entirely  free  from 
the  suspicion  that  Whitefoord  wrote  it  himself.^ 
The  appearance  of  "  Retaliation  "  brought 
about  a  number  of  ex  post  facto  epitaphs,  most 
of  which,  in  all  probability,  their  writers  would 
have  been  pleased  to  pass  off  as  the  original 
productions  to  which  Goldsmith  had  been  in- 
vited to  reply.  Garriclc,  who  wrote  the  best  of 
these  {"■  Here,  Hermes  !  says  Jove,  who  with 
nectar  was  mellow  "),  at  one  time  meditated 
their  publication  ;  but  his  intention  was  never 
carried  out,  and,  as  already  stated,  Goldsmith's 
death  took  place  before  "Retaliation"  was 
given  to  the  world.  Still  working  at  that  poem, 
and  still  planning  fresh  compilations  which 
were  to  enable  him  to  cope  with  his  difficulties, 
he  had  gone  again  to  his  Edgeware  home,  when 
a  sharp  attack  of  a  local  disorder,  induced  by 
his  sedentary  habits,  obliged  him  to  seek  medi- 
cal advice  in  town.  To  London  he  accordingly 
returned  in  the  middle  of  March.  He  saw  a 
doctor,  and  obtained  relief.  But  low  fever 
supervened,  and  on  the  25th  (one  of  the  club 
Fridays)    he  took  to   his    bed.     At   eleven   at 

1  The    recently    published     Whitefoord  Papers,    189S, 
throw  no  light  on  this  point. 


230  Oliver  Goldsmith 

night  he  sent  for  a  surgeon-apothecary  in  the 
Strand  named  Hawes,  ^  who  found  him  ex- 
tremely ill,  but  bent  upon  curing  himself  by  Dr. 
James's  Fever  Powders,  a  patent  medicine  upon 
which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  rely.  Hawes 
did  not  think  it  suited  to  his  condition,  which 
was  more  nervous  than  febrile,  and  endeavoured 
to  induce  him  to  try  other  remedies.  Failing 
in  this,  he  persuaded  him  to  send  for  a  physician, 
Dr.  Fordyce,  who  confirmed  his  view  of  the 
case.  Goldsmith,  however,  still  clung  obstin- 
ately to  James's  nostrum,  and  rejected  the 
medicine  prescribed  by  Dr.  Fordyce.  After 
taking  the  powder  he  became  worse,  and  was 
obliged  to  resign  himself  to  the  advice  of  those 
about  him.  Becoming  exceedingly  weak  and 
sleepless,  he  lingered  for  a  week  longer  in  a 
state  that  caused  the  gravest  anticipations, 
although  he  was  conscious,  and  sometimes  (it  is 

1  William  Hawes,  who  afterwards  wrote  "  An  Account 
(if  the  late  Dr.  Goldsmith's  Illness,  etc.,"  was  the  grand- 
father of  Sir  Benjamin  Hawes,  once  Under-Secretary  at 
War.  William  Hawes  undertook  the  active  management 
of  Goldsmith's  affairs  pending  the  arrival  of  his  relatives 
from  Ireland,  and  arranged  the  sale  of  the  books,  &c. 
Goldsmith's  worn  old  wooden  writing-desk,  which  be- 
longed to  Hawes,  is  now  in  the  South  Kensington 
Museum.  There  is  a  monument  to  Hawes  in  Islington 
New  Church  which  has  been  engraved  by  Basire. 


A  Memoir  231 

said)  even  cheerful.  Dr.  Turton,  a  second 
physician  who  had  been  called  in,  remarking  the 
disorder  of  his  pulse,  asked  if  his  mind  was  at 
ease.  "  No,  it  is  not,"  was  the  reply.  These 
were  the  last  words  he  spoke.  On  the  morning 
of  Monday,  the  4th  of  April,  1774,  after  a  long- 
hoped-for  sleep,  he  died  in  strong  convulsions, 
having  lived  forty-five  years  and  five  months. 
The  announcement  of  his  death  came  like  a 
shock  upon  his  friends.  Burke  burst  into  tears  ; 
Sir  Joshua  laid  aside  his  pencil  for  the  day  ;  and 
a  deeper  gloom  settled  upon  Johnson.  At 
Brick  Court  other,  and  humbler  mourners,  to 
whom  he  had  been  kind,  filled  the  little  stair- 
case with  their  sorrow  ;  and,  as  he  lay  in  his 
coffin,  a  lock  of  his  hair  was  cut  from  his  head 
for  the  "Jessamy  Bride"  and  her  sister.^  On 
Saturday  the  9th,  after  some  discussion  as  to  a 
public  funeral,  which  was  abandoned  on  account 
of  the  state  of  his  affairs,  he  was  buried  quietly 
in  the  burying-ground  of  the  Temple  Church, 
none  weeping  more  profusely  over  his  grave 
than  his  old  rival,  Hugh  Kelly.  Two  years 
later,  a  monument,  with  a  medallion  portrait  by 
Nollekens,   and    an    epitaph    by   Johnson,    the 

^  It  is  still  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Gwyn's  repre- 
sentatives. The  "  Jessamy  Bride "  was  painted  by 
Hoppner. 


232  Oliver  Goldsmith 

story  of  which  must  be  read  in  Boswell,  was 
erected  to  him  in  Westminster  Abbey  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  Literary  Club.  Johnson's  Latin 
—  for  he  refused  to  "disgrace"  that  time- 
honoured  fane  by  English,  ran  as  follows  :  — 

Olivarii  Goldsmith 

Poetas,  Physici,  Historici, 

qui  nullum  fere  scribendi  genus 

non  tetigit, 
nullum  quod  tetigit  non  ornavit: 
sive  risus  assent  movendi, 
sive  lacrymas, 
affectuum  potens,   at  lenis  dominator ; 
ingenio  sublimis,  vividus,  versatilis  ; 
oratione  grandis,  nitidus,  venustus  : 
hoc  monumento  memoriam  coluit 
Sodalium  amor, 
Amicorum  fides, 
Lectorum  veneratio. 
Natus  Hibernia,  Forneias  Lonfordiensis 
in  loco  cui  nomen  Pallas 

Nov.  xxix.    MDCCXXXI. 

Eblanae  Uteris  institutus, 
Objit  Londini 

Ap.  iv.  MDCCLXXIV.l 

1  Croker  translates  this  as  follows  :  —  "Of  Oliver 
Goldsmith — a  Poet,  Naturalist,  and  Historian,  who  left 
scarcely  any  style  of  writing  untouched,  and  touched 
nothing  that  he  did  not  adorn;  of  all  the  passions, 
whether  smiles  were  to  be  moved  or  tears,  a  powerful 
yet  gentle  master;  in  genius,  sublime,  vivid,  versatile ; 


A  Memoir  233 

The  date  of  birth,  it  will  be  seen,  is  inaccu- 
rately given.  Many  years  after  this  monument 
had  been  erected  in  Westminster,  a  tablet,  now 
removed  to  the  triforium,  was  put  up  in  the 
Temple  Church  by  the  Benchers.  But  the  exact 
spot  where  Oliver  Goldsmith  lies  is  not  known, 
although  a  flat  stone  marks  it  conjecturally,  and 
is  perhaps  more  piously  visited  by  pilgrims 
than  either  of  the  other  memorials.  In  Jan- 
uary, 1864,  a  full-length  statue  by  Foley,  the 
Academician,  was  placed  in  front  of  Dublin 
University.-^ 

in  style,  elevated,  clear,  elegant  —  the  love  of  Compan- 
ions, the  fidelity  of  Friends,  and  the  veneration  of 
Readers,  have  by  this  monument  honoured  the  memory. 
He  was  born  in  Ireland,  at  a  place  called  Pallas  [in  the 
parish]  of  Forney,  [and  county]  of  Longford,  on  the  29th 
November,  1731.  Educated  at  [the  University  of]  Dub- 
lin, and  died  in  London,  4th  April,  I774-" 

1  "  Retaliation "  (see  p.  225)  was  published  on  the 
19th  April,  a  fortnight  after  its  author's  death.  In  June 
followed  "Animated  Nature,"  and  in  1776  "The  Haunch 
of  Venison,"  to  which  were  added  two  songs  from  "The 
Captivity,"  an  oratorio  written  in  1764,  but  not  published 
as  a  whole  until  1820. 


CHAPTER   XII 

Portraits  of  Goldsmith  ;  testimonies  as  to  character;  money  diffi- 
culties and  "  folly  of  expense  ;  "  alleged  love  of  play;  of  fine 
clothes  and  entertainments;  generosity  and  benevolence  ; 
alleged  envy  and  malice;  position  in  society;  conversation  ; 
relations  with  Johnson;  conclusion. 

OOMETHING  of  Goldsmith's  personal  ap- 
^^  pearance  will  already  have  been  gathered 
from  the  foregoing  pages,  and  more  particularly 
from  the  letter  to  his  brother  quoted  at  the 
beginning  of  chapter  iv.  He  was  short  and 
stoutly  built.  His  complexion  was  pale  or 
sallow,  and  he  was  deeply  scarred  by  the  small- 
pox. His  scant  hair  was  brown,  his  eyes 
gray  or  hazel,  and  his  forehead,  which  was 
rather  low,  projected  in  a  way  that  is  easily 
exaggerated  in  some  of  the  copies  of  his  por- 
traits. Yet  "  his  features"  —  if  we  may  trust 
one  who  knew  him  —  though  "plain,"  were 
"  not  repulsive,  —  certainly  not  so  when  lighted 
up  by  conversation."  Another  witness,  Mrs. 
Gwyn,  says  that  his  countenance  bore  every 
trace  of  his  unquestionable  benevolence.     His 


A  Memoir  235 

true  likeness  must  probably  be  sought  between 
the  slightly  grotesque  sketch  by  his  friend  Bun- 
bury,  prefixed  to  the  early  editions  of  "  The 
Haunch  of  Venison,'"  and  the  portrait  by  Rey- 
nolds at  Knole  Park,  of  which  there  is  a  copy 
in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery.  Mr.  Forster 
is  severe  upon  Bunbury's  "  caricature  ;  "  but  it 
should  be  remembered  that  "  The  Jessamy 
Bride  "  (who,  even  if  prejudiced  in  favour  of  her 
brother-in-law's  art,  can  scarcely  be  suspected 
of  any  desire  to  depreciate  Goldsmith)  declares 
that  it  "gives  the  head  with  admirable  fidelity 
as  he  actually  lived  among  us."  "  Nothing 
(she  adds)  can  exceed  its  truth,"  On  the  other 
hand,  she  says  of  Reynolds's  picture,  that  "  it 
was  painted  as  a  fine  poetical  head  for  the 
admiration  of  posterity,"  but  "  was  not  the 
man  as  seen  in  daily  life."  This  is  obviously 
just.  In  the  noble  portrait  by  Sir  Joshua  per- 
sonal regard  has  idealised  the  resemblance, 
and  the  artist,  to  use  his  familiar  phrase,  has 
put  into  his  sitter's  head  something  from  his 
own.  His  finely  perceptive  genius  has  fixed  for 
ever  the  most  appealing  characteristics  of  his 
friend's  inner  nature,  his  "  exquisite  sensibility 
of  contempt,"  his  wistful  hunger  for  recognition, 
his  craving  to  be  well  with  all  men.  The  only 
other  portrait  which   needs  mention  is  that  pre- 


236  Oliver  Goldsmith 

fixed  to  Evans's  edition  of  the  "  Poetical  and 
Dramatic  Works."  It  stands  (with  less  in- 
dividuality) between  the  other  two,  and  may  be 
a  copy  of  the  miniature  to  which  Goldsmith  refers 
in  his  letter  to  his  brother  Maurice,  of  January, 
1770,  "  I  have  sent  my  cousin  Jenny  a  miniature 
picture  of  myself,  as  I  believe  it  is  the  most 
acceptable  present  I  can  offer.  .  .  .  The  face 
you  know  is  ugly  enough,  but  it  is  finely  painted." 
The  words  last  quoted  might  be  adduced  as 
evidence  that  Goldsmith  was  not  always  as  vain 
as  some  of  his  contemporaries  would  have  us 
believe.  He  was,  in  reality,  of  so  open  and  un- 
guarded a  disposition,  and  so  wholly  incapable 
of  any  conventional  concealment  of  his  thoughts 
and  emotions,  that  in  collecting  anecdotes  to 
illustrate  his  character,  it  is  of  the  first  impor- 
tance to  ascertain  whether  the  narrator  is  a 
friend  or  an  enemy.  Side  by  side  with  many 
rare  and  noble  qualities.  Goldsmith  had  many 
weaknesses,  which  were  sometimes,  especially 
to  unsympathetic  observers,  far  more  manifest 
than  his  merits.  "The  doctor,"  says  one  con- 
temporary, "  was  a  perfect  Heteroclite,  an 
inexplicable  existence  in  creation  ;  such  a  com- 
pound of  absurdity,  envy,  and  malice,  contrasted 
with  the  opposite  virtues  of  kindness,  generos- 
ity, and  benevolence,  that  he  might  be  said  to 


A  Memoir  237 

consist  of  two  distinct  souls,  and  influenced  by 
the  agency  of  a  good  and  bad  spirit."  ^  This  was 
the  opinion  of  Davies  the  bookseller,  who  had 
known  him  intimately,  and  could  hardly  be 
described  as  either  friend  or  foe,  unless  his 
position  as  Garrick's  biographer  puts  him  ex 
officio  in  the  latter  category.  But  the  passage 
serves  to  show  that  Goldsmith  was,  above  all,  a 
man  of  whom,  to  echo  a  Greek  idiom,  we  should 
"  truth  it  in  love,"  and,  in  this  connection,  the 
testimony  of  witnesses  such  as  Johnson  and 
Reynolds,  or  even  as  Glover  and  Cook,  is  of 
far  greater  import  than  that  of  Walpole,  or  Bos- 
well,  or  Hawkins,  who  scarcely  ever  speak  of 
him  without  an  accent  of  disdain  or  patronage. 

That  Goldsmith's  last  years  were  one  pro- 
longed struggle  with  embarrassment  has  been 
sufficiently  asserted.  It  seems  equally  clear 
that  his  difficulties  arose  less  from  lack  of  means, 
or  inadequate  remuneration,  than  from  his  con- 
stitutional heedlessness.  Nor  can  it  be  doubted 
that  they  played  their  part  in  shortening  his 
life.  "  Of  poor  dear  Dr.  Goldsmith"  —  wrote 
Johnson  to  Boswell  —  "there  is  little  to  be 
told,  more  than  the  papers  have  made  pub- 
lick.  He  died  of  a  fever,  made,  I  am  afraid, 
more  violent  by  uneasiness  of  mind.  His  debts 
1  Life  of  Garrick,  1780,11,  142. 


238  Oliver  Goldsmith 

began  to  be  heavy,  and  all  his  resources  were 
exhausted.  Sir  Joshua  is  of  opinion  that  he 
owed  not  less  than  two  thousand  pounds.  Was 
ever  poet  so  trusted  before  ? "  -^  To  Langton,  in 
a  letter  bearing  the  next  day's  date,  the  story  is 
the  same.  "  He  [Goldsmith]  died  of  a  fever, 
exasperated,  as  I  believe,  by  the  fear  of  distress. 
He  had  raised  money  and  squandered  it,  by 
every  artifice  of  acquisition,  and  folly  of  ex- 
pense. But  let  not  his  frailties  be  remem- 
bered;  he  was  a  very  great  man."^  These 
utterances  are,  in  part,  confirmed  by  the  record, 
incomplete  as  it  must  necessarily  be,  of  the 
amounts  he  had  received  since  the  success  of 
"The  Good  Natur'd  Man"  in  1768.  A  rough 
calculation  of  his  ascertained  gains  from  that  date 
gives  over  ;^3, 000  —  a  sum,  in  all  probability, 
much  below  his  actual  receipts.  If,  as  Rey- 
nolds thought,  his  debts  came  to  "  not  less  than 
^2,000,"  he  must,  for  the  last  six  years  of  his 
life,  have  been  living  at  the  rate  of  at  least  ;^8oo 
a  year,  a  sum  which,  to  Johnson,  with  the 
modest  pension  of  ^300,  out  of  which  he 
managed  to  maintain  so  many  other  pensioners 
of  his  own,  must  have  had  all  "  the  glitter  of 
affluence."     On  the  other   hand,    it   should  be 

1  Hill's  Boswell's  Johnson,  1887,  ii,  280, 

2  Ibid.,  ii,  280-1. 


A  Memoir  239 

remembered  that  Goldsmith's  income  was  not 
paid  with  the  regularity  of  a  State  stipend.  Yet 
it  was  an  income  which,  with  moderate  care, 
might  have  sufficed  for  a  bachelor.  Even  if  the 
^2,000  debt  be  deducted,  there  still  remains  an 
income  of  ^^oo,  or  ;^200  more  than  Johnson's 
pension,  and  more  than  double  the  allowance 
Lord  Auchinleck  made  to  Boswell.  To  acquit 
Goldsmith  of  "folly  of  expense"  is  therefore 
impossible.  It  is  clear  that  his  money  must  have 
"  burnt  his  pocket"  as  freely  in  his  later  years, 
as  in  those  earlier  days,  when  he  first  set  out  to 
study  law  in  London. 

Johnson  might  have  saved  much  speculation 
if  he  had  thrown  some  light  on  the  specific  prod- 
igalities to  which  he  indirectly  refers.  Was 
gambling  one  of  them  ?  If  we  are  to  believe 
Cradock,  it  was.  "  The  greatest  real  fault  of 
Dr.  Goldsmith,"  he  says,  •'  was,  that  if  he  had 
thirty  pounds  in  his  pocket,  he  would  go  into 
certain  companies  in  the  country,  and  in  hopes 
of  doubling  the  sum,  would  generally  return  to 
town  without  any  part  of  it."  ^  Cook  and 
Davies  speak  much  to  the  same  effect ;  and  the 
fact  that  Garrick,  in  one  of  his  epitaphs,  calls 
him  "  gamester,"  may  at  least  be  taken  to  sig- 
nify that  the  accusation  of  play  was  currently 
^  Cradock's  Literary  Memoirs,  1826,  i,  232. 


240  Oliver  Goldsmith 

made  against  him.  Moreoever,  it  had  been 
alleged  to  be  one  of  his  especial  temptations, 
even  in  his  younger  days,  and  when  he  was  a 
student  at  Leyden.  Both  Mr.  Forster  and 
Mr.  Prior,  doubtless  with  praiseworthy  inten- 
tions, endeavour  to  palliate  this  weakness,  by 
proving  that  Goldsmith  could  not  have  "  played 
high  ;  "  but  to  a  man  with  an  uncertain  income,  a 
trifling  loss  would  be  far  more  disastrous  than 
those  easy  thousands  which  Fox  and  Lord 
March  flung  away  at  the  hazard  table.  Added 
to  this  he  had  apparently  but  few  qualifications 
for  success  in  this  direction.  He  may  have 
been  unlucky  at  cards,  but  he  was,  admittedly, 
"  exceedingly  inexpert  in  their  use,"  as  well  as 
impatient  of  temper. 

Another  source  of  extravagance  was  un- 
doubtedly the  succession  of  splendid  garments, 
in  which,  with  the  assistance  of  Mr.  William 
Filby,  at  the  sign  "  of  the  Harrow,  in  Water 
Lane,"  he  was  wont,  in  Judge  Day's  expression, 
to  "  exhibit  his  muscular  little  person."  This  had 
been  a  frailty  from  his  boyhood — witness  the 
story  of  the  Elphin  red  breeches,  and  the  Edin- 
burgh student  bills.  Something  of  vanity  was 
doubtless  mingled  with  it,  but  the  desire  to  ex- 
tenuate his  personal  shortcomings,  and  the  mis- 
taken idea  of  the  importance  of  fine  clothes  to 


A  Memoir  241 

the  gentleman,  had  also  considerable  influence. 
Certainly,  in  his  better  moments,  he  was  fully 
conscious  of  the  futility  of  squandering  money 
in  this  way.  Once  Reynolds  found  him  in  a 
reverie,  kicking  a  bundle  mechanically  round 
the  room.  Upon  examination,  this  proved  to 
be  an  expensive  masquerade  dress,  which  he 
had  been  tempted  to  purchase,  and  out  of 
which,  its  temporary  ends  having  been  served, 
he  was  endeavouring,  as  he  jestingly  said,  to  ex- 
tract the  value  in  exercise.  At  his  death  he  owed 
Filby  ;^79,  although  only  the  previous  year  he 
had  paid  him  sums  amounting  in  all  to  ;!^iio. 
It  is  but  fair  to  add  that  £T)^  of  this ;,^ 79  was 
incurred  for  a  ne'er-do-well  nephew  from  Ire- 
land, who,  when  he  afterwards  became  a  pros- 
perous "  squireen,"  never  thought  it  due  to  his 
uncle's  memory  to  discharge  the  balance.  And 
nowhere  more  fitly  than  in  this  place  can  it  be 
recorded  that  the  tailor  always  spoke  well  of  his 
distinguished  debtor.  "  He  had  been  a  good 
customer,"  said  honest  Mr.  Filby  of  the  Har- 
row ;  "  and  had  he  lived  would  have  paid  every 
farthing."  Nor  was  Mr.  Filby  the  only  person 
who  was  charitably  disposed  to  that  kindly 
spendthrift  at  Brick  Court.  There  were  two 
poor  Miss  Gunns,  milliners  at  the  corner  of 
Temple  Lane,  who  told  Cradock  that  they 
16 


242  Oliver  Goldsmith 

would  work  for  his  friend  for  nothing,  rather 
than  that  he  should  go  elsewhere.  "  We  are 
sure  that  he  will  pay  us  if  he  can."  ^  Such 
testimonies  outbalance  long  files  of  overdue 
accounts. 

His  paying  the  bills  of  his  nephew  Hodson 
explains  another  of  his  methods  of  spending 
money,  which  perhaps  only  the  most  rigid 
moralists  will  regard  as  a  "  folly  of  expense." 
There  can  be  no  doubt  of  his  hospitality  and 
generosity.  His  entertainments,  when  he  was 
in  a  position  to  entertain,  and,  frequently  when 
he  was  not,  were  of  the  most  lavish  character. 
Once,  when  one  of  his  dinners  had  opened  with 
more  than  usual  profusion,  Johnson  and  Rey- 
nolds, who  suspected  his  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ments, silently  rebuked  him  by  sending  away 
the  second  course  untouched  —  a  mode  of  ad- 
monition surely  more  humiliating  than  salutary. 
As  to  his  benevolence,  it  may  fairly  be  said  to 
have  been  boundless,  though  unhappily  it  was 
often  ill-bestowed.  If  his  benefactions  had 
been  confined  to  the  poor  women  who  carried 
away  the  remains  of  his  breakfast  on  "  shoe- 
maker's holidays,"  or  to  his  landlady  in  Green 
Arbour  Court,  who,  until  his  death,  found  in  him 
a  faithful  friend,  he  might  have  been,  if  not  a 
1  Cradock's  Literary  Memoirs,  1828,  iv,  287. 


A  Memoir  243 

rich,  at  least  a  solvent  man.  But  his  literary 
prominence  drew  about  him  a  host  of  parasites 
and  petitioners,  mostly  from  his  native  island, 
who  practised  upon  his  kind  heart,  and  his  com- 
passionate impulses.  He  had  learned  from  his 
father  to  be  a  "  mere  machine  of  pity,"  and  the 
Purdons  and  Pilkingtons  who  preyed  upon  him, 
took  care  that  the  machine  should  not  rust  for 
lack  of  use.  Upon  the  whole  it  may  be  con- 
cluded that  more  of  his  money  went  in  this  way 
than  in  any  other.  "  His  humanity  and  generos- 
ity," says  Hawes,  "greatly  exceeded  the  nar- 
row limits  of  his  fortune."^  And  Hawes,  as  his 
temporary  executor,  had  special  facilities  for 
knowing. 

The  "  envy  and  malice  "  with  which  he  is 
credited  by  Davies  were  probably  more  appar- 
ent than  real.  Nevertheless  his  recorded  atti- 
tude to  Sterne,  Gray,  Beattie,  Churchill,  and 
others  of  his  contemporaries,  shows  that  he 
cannot  be  entirely  absolved  from  hearing 

"in  every  breeze 
The  laurels  of  Miltiades  ;  " 

and  there  are  passages  in  Boswell,  which,  al- 
though they  do  not  support  the  charge  of  malice, 
can  scarcely  be  disregarded,  even  when  every 

^  Account  of  the  late  Dr.  GolJs7?iitlis  Illness,  1774,  p.  20. 


244  Oliver  Goldsmith 

allowance  has  been  made  for  bias  in  the  teller. 
"  Talking  of  Goldsmith,"  writes  Boswell, 
"Johnson  said,  he  was  very  envious.  I  de- 
fended him,  by  observing  that  he  owned  it 
frankly  upon  all  occasions.  '  Sir '  [said  John- 
son] '  you  are  enforcing  the  charge.  He  had 
so  much  envy,  that  he  could  not  conceal  it. 
He  was  so  full  of  it  that  he  overflowed.  He 
talked  of  it  to  be  sure  often  enough.  Now, 
Sir,  what  a  man  avows,  he  is  not  ashamed  to 
think  ;  though  many  a  man  thinks,  what  he  is 
ashamed  to  avow.' "  ^  To  this  may  be  ap- 
pended a  qualifying  passage  from  Davies : 
"  Goldsmith  was  so  sincere  a  man,  that  he 
could  not  conceal  what  was  uppermost  in  his 
mind.  .  .  .  His  envy  was  so  childish,  and  so 
absurd,  that  it  may  be  very  easily  pardoned,  for 
everybody  laughed  at  it ;  and  no  man  was  ever 
very  mischievous  whose  errors  excited  mirth ; 
he  never  formed  any  scheme,  or  joined  in  any 
combination,  to  hurt  any  man  living."  ^     Closely 

1  Hill's  Boswell's  Jokuson,  18S7,  iii,  271. 

2  Life  of  Garrick,  1780,  ii,  162.  Percy  writes  much  to 
the  same  effect :  "  Whatever  appeared  of  this  kind  was 
a  mere  momentary  sensation,  which  he  knew  not  how 
like  other  men  to  conceal.  It  was  never  the  result  of 
principle,  or  the  suggestion  of  reflection;  it  never  im- 
bittered  his  heart,  nor  influenced  his  conduct."  {^Miscel- 
laneous  Works,  1801,  i,  117.) 


A  Memoir  245 

allied  to  this  uncontrollable  candour  of  charac- 
ter was  a  simplicity  which  was  part  of  his  Irish 
nature,  and  which  often  made  him  the  butt  of 
his  contemporaries.  The  anecdote  of  Gibbon's 
palming  off  Montezuma  upon  him  for  Porus  has 
already  been  related.  Another  story  told  by 
Croker,  exhibits  him  as  the  innocent  dupe  of 
Burke  :  "  Colonel  O'Moore,  of  Cloghan  Castle 
in  Ireland,  told  me  an  amusing  instance  of  the 
mingled  vanity  and  simplicity  of  Goldsmith, 
which  (though,  perhaps,  coloured  a  little  as 
anecdotes  too  often  are)  is  characteristic  at  least 
of  the  opinion  which  his  best  friends  entertained 
of  Goldsmith.  One  afternoon,  as  Colonel 
O'Moore  and  Mr.  Burke  were  walking  to  dine 
with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  they  observed  Gold- 
smith (also  on  his  way  to  Sir  Joshua's)  standing 
near  a  crowd  of  people,  who  were  staring  and 
shouting  at  some  foreign  women  in  the  windows 
of  one  of  the  hotels  of  Leicester  Square.  '  Ob- 
serve Goldsmith,'  said  Mr.  Burke  to  O'Moore, 
'  and  mark  what  passes  between  him  and  me  by 
and  by  at  Sir  Joshua's.'  They  passed  on,  and 
arrived  before  Goldsmith,  who  came  soon  after, 
and  Mr.  Burke  affected  to  receive  him  very 
coolly.  This  seemed  to  vex  poor  Goldsmith, 
who  begged  Mr.  Burke  to  tell  him  how  he 
had  had  the  misfortune  to  offend  him.     Burke 


246  Oliver  Goldsmith 

appeared  very  reluctant  to  speak  ;  but,  after  a 
good  deal  of  pressing,  said  that  he  was  really 
ashamed  to  keep  up  an  intimacy  with  one  who 
could  be  guilty  of  such  monstrous  indiscretions 
as  Goldsmith  had  just  exhibited  in  the  square. 
Goldsmith,  with  great  earnestness,  protested  he 
was  unconscious  of  what  was  meant.  '  Why,' 
said  Burke,  '  did  you  not  exclaim,  as  you  were 
looking  up  at  those  women,  what  stupid  beasts 
the  crowd  must  be  for  staring  with  such  admira- 
tion at  those  "  painted  Jezebels  1  "  while  a  man 
of  your  talents  passed  by  unnoticed?'  Gold- 
smith was  horror-struck,  and  said,  '  Surely, 
surely,  my  dear  friend,  I  did  not  say  so  ! ' 
*  Nay,'  replied  Burke,  '  if  you  had  not  said  so, 
how  should  I  have  known  it?'  '  That 's  true,' 
answered  Goldsmith,  with  great  humility  ;  '  I 
am  very  sorry —  it  was  very  foolish  ;  I  do  recol- 
lect that  something  of  the  kind  passed  through 
my  mind,  but  I  did  not  think  I  had  uttered  it.' "  ^ 
It  is  the  simplicity  rather  than  the  vanity  of 
Goldsmith  which  is  here  illustrated,  and  the 
blame  of  the  story,  if  any,  certainly  lies  with 
Burke. 

In   attempting  to  estimate   Goldsmith  as  he 
struck  his  contemporaries  —  to  use  Browning's 
phrase  —  it   is  important  to    bear  in    mind   his 
1  Croker's  Bosvvell's  Johnson,  i860,  p.  141. 


A  Memoir  247 

history  and  antecedents.  Born  a  gentleman,  he 
had,  nevertheless,  started  in  life  with  few  tem- 
poral or  personal  advantages,  and  with  a  morbid 
susceptibility  that  accentuated  his  defects.  His 
younger  days  had  been  aimless  and  unprofitable. 
Until  he  became  a  middle-aged  man,  his  career 
had  been  one  of  which,  even  now,  we  do  not 
know  all  the  degradations,  and  they  had  left 
their  mark  upon  his  manners.  Although  he 
knew  Percy  as  early  as  17^9,  and  Johnson  in 
1 761,  it  was  not  until  the  establishment  of  "The 
Club,"  or  perhaps  even  until  the  publication  of 
"The  Traveller,"  that  he  became  really  intro- 
duced to  society,  and  he  entered  it  with  his 
past  associations  still  clinging  about  him.  If 
he  was  —  not  unnaturally  —  elated  at  his  success, 
he  seems  also  to  have  displayed  a  good  deal  of 
that  nervous  self-consciousness,  which  charac- 
terises those  who  experience  sudden  alterna- 
tions of  fortune.  To  men  like  Johnson,  who 
had  been  intimate  with  him  long,  and  recog- 
nised his  genius,  his  attitude  presented  no  diffi- 
culty, but  to  the  ordinary  spectator  he  seemed 
awkward  and  ill  at  ease,  prompting  once  more 
the  comment,  that  genius  and  knowledge  of  the 
world  are  seldom  fellow-lodgers.  On  his  own 
part,  too,  he  must  have  been  often  uncertain 
of  his  position  and  capricious  in  his  demands. 


248  Oliver  Goldsmith 

Sometimes  he  was  tenacious  in  the  wrong  place, 
and  if  he  thought  himself  neglected,  had  not 
the  tact  to  conceal  his  annoyance.  Once,  says 
Boswell,  he  complained  to  a  mixed  company 
that,  at  Lord  Clare's,  Lord  Camden  had  taken 
no  more  notice  of  him  than  if  he  "had  been 
an  ordinary  man"  —  an  utterance  which  re- 
quired all  Johnson's  championship  to  defend. 
At  other  times  he  would  lament  to  Reynolds 
that  he  seemed  to  strike  a  kind  of  awe  upon 
those  into  whose  company  he  went,  an  awe 
which  he  endeavoured  to  dispel  by  excess  of 
hilarity  and  sociability.  "  Sir  Joshua,"  says 
Northcote  (or  Laird,  who  collected  North- 
cote's  "  Recollections"),  "was  convinced,  that 
he  was  intentionally  more  absurd,  in  order  to 
lessen  himself  in  social  intercourse,  trusting 
that  his  character  would  be  sufficiently  sup- 
ported by  his  works."  This  anecdote  may  pair 
off  with  the  story  of  that  affected  solemnity  by 
which  he  sometimes  imposed  upon  those  about 
him  ;  but  in  either  case  the  part  is  a  dangerous 
one  to  play. 

As  a  conversationalist  he  seems  to  have  had 
but  few  qualifications  for  success.  Like  Burke 
he  never  lost,  nor,  to  the  end  of  his  life,  cared 
to  lose,  his  strong  Irish  accent.  He  seems 
besides,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  to  have  suffered 


A  Memoir  249 

from  that  most  fatal  of  all  drawbacks  to  a  racon- 
teur, a  slow  and  hesitating  manner  ;  and  he  was 
easily  disconcerted  by  retort  or  discomfited  in 
argument.  He  reasoned  best,  he  said,  with  his 
pen  in  his  hand.  These  things  were  all  against 
him,  and  they  were  intensified  by  the  competi- 
tion into  which  he  was  thrown.  Among  ordi- 
nary men  he  might  have  shone,  but  his  chief 
associates  in  later  life  were  some  of  the  most 
brilliant  talkers  of  his  own,  or  any  age.  Few 
could  hope  to  contend  on  equal  terms  with  the 
trained  dialectics  and  inexhaustible  memory  of 
Johnson,  or  to  rival  the  mental  affluence  and 
brilliant  rhetoric  of  Burke.  And  besides  these, 
there  were  the  refined  scholarship  of  Langton, 
the  easy  savoir-vivre  of  Beauclerk,  the  wit  and 
mercurial  alertness  of  Garrick.  Speaking  to 
Boswell,  Johnson  seems  to  have  put  Goldsmith's 
position  in  his  usual  straightforward  manner : 
"The  misfortune  of  Goldsmith  in  conversation 
is  this  :  he  goes  on  without  knowing  how  he  is 
to  get  off.  His  genius  is  great,  but  his  know- 
ledge is  small.  As  they  say  of  a  generous  man, 
it  is  a  pity  he  is  not  rich,  we  may  say  of  Gold- 
smith, it  is  a  pity  he  is  not  knowing.  He  would 
not  keep  his  knowledge  to  himself."^  Again: 
"Goldsmith  should  not  be  for  ever  attempting 
1  Hill's  'Ro^wqWs  Johnson,  18S7,  ii,  196. 


Z50  Oliver  Goldsmith 

to  shine  in  conversation  ;  he  has  not  temper  for 
it,  he  is  so  much  mortified  when  he  fails.  Sir, 
a  game  of  jokes  is  composed  partly  of  skill, 
partly  of  chance,  a  man  may  be  beat  at  times  by 
one  who  has  not  the  tenth  part  of  his  wit.  Now 
Goldsmith's  putting  himself  against  another,  is 
like  a  man  laying  a  hundred  to  one  who  cannot 
spare  the  hundred.  It  is  not  worth  a  man's 
while.  A  man  should  not  lay  a  hundred  to  one, 
unless  he  can  easily  spare  it,  though  he  has  a  hun- 
dred chances  for  him  :  he  can  but  get  a  guinea, 
and  he  may  lose  a  hundred.  Goldsmith  is  in 
this  state.  When  he  contends,  if  he  gets  the 
better,  it  is  a  very  little  addition  to  a  man  of  his 
literary  reputation  ;  if  he  does  not  get  the  better 
he  is  miserably  vexed."  ^  It  is  quite  possible 
that  these  utterances  lost  nothing  under  Bos- 
well's  recording  pen.  As  a  slight  corrective  to 
them  may  be  cited  a  passage  from  "The  Par- 
lour Window  "  of  the  Reverend  Edward  Man- 
"in,  who,  as  far  as  we  are  aware,  has  not 
hitherto  been  brought  forward  as  a  witness.  "I 
knew  an  old  literary  man,  a  very  keen  observer 
too,  who  assured  me  that  he  had  often  been  in 
company  with  Goldsmith,  Johnson,  Garrick, 
&c.,  and  that  Goldsmith  used  to  have  a  crowd 
of  listeners  about  his  seat,  and  was  a  shrewd 
1  Hill's  Boswell's  Johnson,  1887,  ii,  231. 


A  Memoir  251 

and  eloquent  converser."  ^  It  is  also  incontest- 
able that,  whatever  Goldsmith's  success  may 
have  been  in  the  "wit-combats"  at  the  Turk's 
Head,  he  frequently  said  very  pertinent  things. 
Such  was  his  affirmation  of  Burke,  that  "he 
wound  into  a  subject  like  a  serpent  ;  "  such  his 
rebuke  to  Boswell,  babbling  of  Johnson's 
supremacy,  that  he  was  "  for  making  a  monarchy 
of  what  should  be  a  republic."  Nor  was  this 
the  only  one  of  his  random  flashes  that  went 
home  to  the  great  lexicographer  himself.  It 
was  Goldsmith  who  said  of  Johnson  that  he  had 
nothing  of  the  bear  but  the  skin  ;  that  he  would 
make  the  little  fishes  talk  like  whales  ;  that  if 
his  pistol  [of  argument]  missed  fire,  he  knocked 
you  down  with  the  butt  end  thereof — all  of 
which  bid  fair  to  attain  the  most  advanced  age 
accorded  to  fortunate  epigrams. 

Some  of  the  pleasantest  anecdotes  of  Gold- 
smith's career  are  connected  with  Johnson. 
No  one  seems  to  have  dared  to  make  that  great 
man  "  rear"  in  precisely  the  same  way  as 
"Doctor  Minor/'  Once,  relates  Johnson  — 
in  a  well-remembered  instance — they  were  in 
Westminster  Abbey  together,  and  pausing  in 
Poets'  Corner,  Johnson  said,  sonorously  (as  we 
may  assume)  :  — 

1  T/ii  Parlour  Window,  184 1,  p.  29. 


252  Oliver  Goldsmith 

"  Forsitan  et  nostrum  nomen  miscebitur  istis." 

As  they  returned  citywards,  Goldsmith  pointed 
slyly  to  the  blanching  heads  on  Temple  Bar. 

"  Forsitan  et  nostrum  nomen  miscebitur  istis"  — 

he  whispered.^  On  another  occasion  they  were 
supping  on  rumps  and  kidneys  at  a  tavern. 
"  Sir,"  said  Johnson,  "  these  rumps  are  pretty 
little  things  ;  but  then  a  man  must  eat  a  great 
many  of  them  before  he  fills  his  belly." 
"  Aye,"  interjected  Goldsmith,  "  but  how  many 
of  these  would  reach  to  the  moon?"  "To 
the  moon!"  echoed  Johnson;  ^' that,  Sir,  I 
fear,  exceeds  your  calculations."  '*  Not  at  all, 
said  Goldsmith,  firmly;  '^  I  think  I  could  tell." 
"  Pray  then  let  us  hear."  "Why,"  said  Gold- 
smith again,  speaking  deliberately,  "- om,  if  it 
were  long  enough."  Well  might  Johnson  gasp 
—  "  Sir,  I  have  deserved  it ;  I  should  not  have 
provoked  so  foolish  an  answer  by  so  foolish  a 
question."  But  the  prettiest  incident  of  all  is 
perhaps  the  story  of  the  little  quarrel  at  Dilly's 
in  the  Poultry.  Johnson  had  had  a  long  innings 
of  talk,  and  Goldsmith,  burning  "  to  get  in  and 
shine  "  (according  to  Boswell),  was  afraid,  from 
some  uncouth  sound  the  great  man  emitted,  that 
he  was  preparing  to  start  afresh.  "  '  Sir  (said 
1  Hill's  Boswell's /^//«J^«,  1887,  ii,  238. 


A  Memoir  253 

he  to  Johnson),  the  gentleman  has  heard  you 
patiently  for  an  hour  ;  pray  allow  us  now  to 
hear  him.'  'Sir  (retorted  Johnson,  sternly), 
I  was  not  interrupting  the  gentleman.  I  was 
only  giving  him  a  signal  of  my  attention.  Sir, 
you  are  impertinent ! '  Goldsmith  made  no 
reply,  but  continued  in  the  company  some 
time."  ^  A  little  later  Boswell  takes  up  the 
sequel.  "  He  [Johnson]  and  Mr.  Langton  and 
I  went  together  to  the  Club,  where  we  found 
Mr.  Burke,  Mr.  Garrick,  and  some  other 
members,  and  amongst  them  our  friend  Gold- 
smith, who  sat  silently  brooding  over  Johnson's 
reprimand  to  him  after  dinner.  Johnson  per- 
ceived this,  and  said  aside  to  some  of  us,  '  I'll 
make  Goldsmith  forgive  me,'  and  then  called  to 
him  in  a  loud  voice  —  *  Dr.  Goldsmith,  —  some- 
thing passed  to-day  where  you  and  I  dined  ;  I  ask 
your  pardon.'  Goldsmith  answered  placidly, 
*  It  must  be  much  from  you.  Sir,  that  I  take  ill.' 
And  so  at  once  the  difference  was  over,  and 
they  were  on  as  easy  terms  as  ever,  and  Gold- 
smith rattled  away  as  usual."  ^  Such  differences, 
indeed,  were  but  momentary.  Each  man  had  a 
sincere  admiration  for  the  other, — an  admira- 
tion to  which  the  survivor  often  testified  with  a 

^  Hill's  'Bo^.-vi^Wi,  /ohnson,  1887,  "1  255. 
2  Ibid.,  ii,  256. 


2  54  Oliver  Goldsmith 

frank,  fidelity.  Once,  not  long  after  Goldsmith's 
death,  when  some  busy-bodies  at  Reynolds's 
were  depreciating  his  work,  Johnson,  we  are 
told,  rose  with  great  dignity,  looked  them  full 
in  the  face,  and  exclaimed,  "  If  nobody  was 
suffered  to  abuse  poor  Goldy  but  those  who 
could  write  as  well,  he  would  have  few  cen- 
sors !"  ^  Upon  another  and  later  occasion, 
when  he  was  discussing  Goldsmith  in  his  own 
particularly  candid  way,  he  said  to  Sir  Joshua  : 
"  Goldsmith  was  a  man,  who,  whatever  he 
wrote,  did  it  belter  than  any  other  man  could 
do.  He  deserved  a  place  in  Westminster- 
Abbey,  and  every  year  he  lived,  would  have 
deserved  it  better."  ^ 

But  there  must  come  an  end  to  anecdote  — 
even  in  a  brief  biography.  It  would  be  easy  to 
multiply  examples  of  that  strange  mingling  of 
strength  and  weakness —  of  genius  and  gaucherie 
—  which  went  to  make  up  Goldsmith's  character. 
Yet  the  advantage  would  remain  with  its  gentler 
and  more  lovable  aspects,  and  the  "  over-word  " 
would  still  be  the  compassionate  verdict :  "  Let 
not  his  frailties  be  remembered  ;  he  was  a 
very  great  man.''  And  —  what  is  perhaps  more 
to  the  purpose  of  the  present  memoir  —  he  was 

1  Northcote's  Reynolds,  1819,1,  327. 

2  Hill's  Bosweirsyb,^«w«,  1SS7,  iii,  253. 


A  Memoir  255 

assuredly  a  Great  Writer.  In  the  fifteen  years 
over  which  his  literary  activity  extended,  he  man- 
aged to  produce  a  record  which  has  given  him 
an  unassailable  position  in  English  letters.  Apart 
from  mere  hack-work  and  compilation — hack- 
work and  compilation  which,  in  most  cases,  he 
all  but  lifted  to  the  level  of  a  fine  art  —  he  wrote 
some  of  the  best  familiar  verse  in  the  language. 
In  an  age  barren  of  poetry,  he  wrote  two  didac- 
tic poems,  which  are  still  among  the  memories 
of  the  old,  as  they  are  among  the  first  lessons  of 
the  young.  He  wrote  a  series  of  essays,  which, 
for  style  and  individuality,  fairly  hold  their  own 
between  the  best  work  of  Addison  and  Steele 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  best  work  of  Charles 
Lamb  on  the  other.  He  wrote  a  domestic  novel, 
unique  in  kind,  and  as  cosmopolitan  as  "  Robin- 
son Crusoe."  Finally  he  wrote  two  excellent 
plays,  one  of  which,  "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer," 
still  stands  in  the  front  rank  of  the  few  popular 
masterpieces  of  English  comedy. 


APPENDIX 


Letters  to  Daniel  Hodson  and  Thomas  Bond. 

A  FTER  this  book  was  printed,  the  author  was 
'^~*-  permitted,  by  the  kindness  of  the  late  Mr. 
F.  Locker-Lampson,  to  transcribe  from  his  col- 
lection of  autographs,  and  to  reproduce  —  for 
the  first  time  —  the  following  letters  of  Gold- 
smith. They  relate  to  William  Hodson,  the 
nephew  mentioned  at  p.  242  ;  and  supply  fresh 
examples  of  his  uncle's  kindliness  and  generosity. 
The  arrangement  is  conjectural. 

[No  date.] 
My  Dear  Brother,  —  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  informing  you  that  your  son  William  is  ar- 
rived in  London  in  safety  and  joins  with  me  in 
his  kindest  love  and  duty  to  you.  Nothing 
gives  me  greater  pleasure  than  the  prospect  I 
have  of  his  behaving  in  the  best  and  most  duti- 
ful manner  both  to  you  and  the  rest  of  the 
family.  Sincerely  I  am  charmed  with  his  dis- 
position and    I   am  sure  he   feels  all  the  good 


Appendix  257 

nature  he  expresses  every  moment  for  his 
friends  at  home.  He  had  when  he  came  here 
some  thoughts  of  going  upon  the  stage  ;  I  dont 
know  where  he  could  have  contracted  so  beg- 
garly an  affection,  but  I  have  turned  him  from 
it  and  he  is  now  sincerely  bent  on  pursuing 
the  study  of  physic  and  surgery  in  which  he  has 
already  made  a  considerable  progress  and  to 
which  I  have  very  warmly  exhorted  him.  He 
will  in  less  than  a  year  be  a  very  good  Surgeon 
and  he  will  understand  a  competent  share  of 
physic  also,  when  he  is  fit  for  any  business  or 
any  practice  I  shall  use  all  my  little  interest  in 
his  favour.  As  for  the  stage  it  was  every  way 
a  wild  scheme  and  he  is  beside  utterly  unfit  to 
succeed  upon  it.  But  while  he  is  fitting  himself 
for  other  business  my  dear  Brother  it  is  not 
proper  that  he  should  be  utterly  neglected.  I 
have  endeavoured  to  answer  for  you  and  my 
sister  that  some  little  thing  should  be  done  for 
him  either  here  or  at  Edinburgh,  and  for  my 
own  part  I  am  willing  to  contribute  something 
towards  his  education  myself.  I  believe  an 
hundred  pounds  for  a  year  or  two  would  very 
completely  do  the  business,  when  once  he  has 
got  a  profession  he  then  may  be  thrown  into 
any  place  with  a  prospect  of  succeeding.  My 
Dear  Dan  think  of  this  for  a  little,  something 
17 


258  Appendix 

must  be  done.  I  will  give  him  twenty  pounds  a 
year,  he  has  already  about  twenty  more,  the  rest 
must  be  got,  and  your  own  good  sense  will  sug- 
gest the  means.  I  have  often  told  you  and  tell 
you  again  that  we  have  all  good  prospects  be- 
fore us,  so  that  a  little  perseverance  will  bring 
things  at  last  to  bear.  My  brother  Maurice 
was  with  me  in  London  but  it  was  not  in  my 
power  to  serve  him  effectually  then  ;  indeed  in 
a  letter  I  wrote  him  I  desired  him  by  no  means 
to  come  up  but  he  was  probably  fond  of  the 
journey.  I  have  already  written  to  Dr.  Hunter 
in  William's  favour,^  and  have  got  him  cloaths, 
etc.  I  only  wait  your  answer  in  what  manner 
further  to  proceed  and  with  the  sincerest  affec- 
tion to  you  and  my  sister  I  am  Dear  Dan  your 
most  affectionate  Brother 

Oliver  Goldsmith. 

I  had  a  letter  from  Charles  who  is  as  he  tells 
me  possessed  of  a  competency  and  settled  in 
Jamaica. 

Dan'  Hodson  Esq'. 

[No  date.] 

My  Dear  Brother,  —  It  gave  me  great  con- 
cern to  find  that  you  were  uneasy  at  your  son's 
going  abroad.     I  will  beg  leave  to  state  my  part 

1  This  letter  is  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Baillie  of 
Norfolk  Square. 


Appendix  259 

in  the  affair  and  I  hope  you  will  not  condemn 
me  for  what  I  have  endeavoured  to  do  for  his 
benefit.  When  he  came  here  first  I  learned  that 
his  circumstances  were  very  indifferent,  and 
that  something  was  to  be  done  to  retrieve  them. 
The  stage  was  an  abominable  resource  which 
neither  became  a  man  of  honour,  nor  a  man  of 
sense.  I  therefore  dissuaded  him  from  that  de- 
sign and  turned  him  to  physic  in  which  he  had 
before  made  a  very  great  progress,  and  since 
that  he  has  for  this  last  twelve  months  applied 
himself  to  surgery,  so  that  I  am  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  there  is  not  a  better  surgeon  in  the 
kingdom  of  Ireland  than  he.  I  was  obliged  to 
go  down  to  Bath  with  a  friend  that  was  dying 
when  my  nephew  sent  me  down  your  letter  to 
him  in  which  you  inform  him  that  he  can  no 
longer  have  any  expectations  from  you  and  that 
therefore  he  must  think  of  providing  for  him- 
self. With  this  letter  he  sent  me  one  of  his  own 
where  he  asserted  his  fixed  intentions  of  going 
surgeon's  mate  to  India.  Upon  reading  the  two 
letters  I  own  I  thought  something  was  to  be 
done.  I  therefore  wrote  to  a  friend  in  Town 
who  procured  him  the  assurance  of  a  place 
as  full  surgeon  to  India.  This  with  supplying 
him  with  about  five  and  forty  pounds  is  what  I 
did   in  my  endeavours  to  serve  him.     I  thought 


26o  Appendix 

him  helpless  and  unprovided  for,  and  I  was 
ardent  in  my  endeavours  to  remove  his  perplexi- 
ties. Whatever  his  friends  at  home  may  think 
of  a  surgeon's  place  to  the  East  Indies,  it  is  not 
so  contemptible  a  thing,  and  those  who  go  sel- 
dom fail  of  making  a  moderate  fortune  in  two  or 
three  voyages.  But  be  this  as  it  may  William  is 
now  prevailed  upon  to  return  home  to  take  your 
further  advice  and  instructions  upon  the  matter. 
He  has  laboured  very  hard  since  he  left  you, 
and  is  capable  of  living  like  a  gentleman  in  any 
part  of  the  world.  He  has  answered  his  ex- 
aminations as  a  Surgeon  and  has  been  found 
sufficiently  qualified.  I  entreat  therefore  you 
will  receive  him  as  becomes  him  and  you,  and 
that  you  will  endeavour  to  serve  the  young  man 
effectually  not  by  foolish  fond  caresses  but  by 
either  advancing  him  in  his  business  or  setling 
him  in  life.  I  could  my  Dear  Brother  say  a 
great  deal  more,  but  am  obliged  to  hasten  this 
letter  as  I  am  again  just  setting  out  for  Bath, 
and  I  honestly  say  I  had  much  rather  it  had 
been  for  Ireland  with  my  nephew,  but  that 
pleasure  I  hope  to  have  before  I  die. 
I  am  Dear  Dan 

Your  most  affectionate 

Brother  Oliver  Goldsmith. 
Daniel  Hodson  Esq^ 


Appendix  261 

Temple.    Brick  Court. 

December  16  1772 
Dear  Sir,  —  I  received  your  letter,  inclosing 
a  draft  upon  Kerr  and  company  which  when  due 
shall  be  applied  to  the  discharge  of  a  part  of  my 
nephew's  debts  He  has  written  to  me  from 
Bristol  for  ten  pound  which  I  have  sent  him  in 
a  bank  note  enclosed  he  has  also  drawn  upon 
me  by  one  Mr.  Odonogh  for  ten  pound  more, 
the  balance  therefore  having  paid  his  servant 
maid,  as  likewise  one  or  two  trifles  more  re- 
mains with  me.  As  he  will  certainly  have 
immediate  and  pressing  occasion  for  the  rest 
when  he  arrives  I  beg  youl  remit  the  rest  to  me 
and  I  will  take  care  to  see  it  applied  in  the 
most  proper  manner.  He  has  talked  to  me  of  a 
matrimonial  scheme.  If  that  could  lake  place 
all  would  soon  be  well.  I  am  Dear  Sir  your 
affection  Kinsman  and  humble  servant 

Oliver  Goldsmith. 
Be  pleased  to  answer  this  directly 
Mr  Thomas  Bond  Attorney 
in  Montrath  Street 
Dublin 

Little  definite  is  known  respecting  "William 
Hodson.  He  was  the  son  of  Daniel  Hodson 
and   Catherine,  Goldsmith's  second  sister  {vide 


262  Appendix 

p.  1 1).  Cradock  says  he  practised  as  an 
apothecary  in  Newman  Street ;  and  it  is  further 
alleged  of  him  that  he  once  paid  a  small  debt 
with  an  undrawn  lottery  ticket  which  came 
up  a  prize  of  ^20,000.  In  1807,  according  to 
Annesley  Strean,  his  son,  Oliver  Goldsmith 
Hodson,  had  succeeded  to  the  paternal  estate. 
The  Dr.  Hunter,  mentioned  at  p.  258,  is  Dr. 
William  Hunter  ;  and  the  closing  lines  of  the 
second  letter  (p.  260)  tend  to  confirm  the  belief 
that  Goldsmith  never  re-visited  Ireland  after  he 
left  it  in  1752. 


Index 


"  Adventures  of  a  Strolling 

Player,"  89. 
"  Animated  Nature,"  179,  206, 

233  n- 
Anodyne  Necklace  (/.  e.,  a  hal- 
ter), 48. 

Ballantyne,  William,  157. 
Barlow,  Peter,  175. 
Beatty,  John,  13,  17,  46. 
"  Beauties  of  Enghsh  Poesy," 

151. 
Beauclerk,  Topham,  in,  224; 

quoted,  225. 
"  Beau  Tibbs,"  98. 
Bee,    The,    78-81  ;   quoted,   48, 

Si  ;  verses  in,  82-83. 
"  Bolingbroke,  Life  of,"  19S. 
"  Bookseller  of  the  Last  Cen- 
tury, A,"  102,  104. 
Boswell,  James,  112,  117,  139, 

195,  206,  221,  232,  237-239, 

243,  244,  248,  249  ;  quoted, 

134,  181-183. 
Bott,  Mr.  Edmund,  178. 
Breakneck  Steps,  66,  71. 
Brick  Court,    Middle    Temple 

(No.  2).  169,  206,  231. 
British  Magazinci  The,  43,  86, 

88.  89,  90. 
Brooke's  '"  System  of  Natural 

History,"  Preface  to,  107. 
Bryanton,     Robert,    of     Bally- 

mulvey,  17,  22,    57,  58,  69  ; 

letters  to,  28-29,  ;8. 
Bunbury,   Henry  Willi.»m,   the 

Caricaturist,  192,  235. 


Bunbury,  Mrs.,  see  "  Horneck, 

Catlierine." 
Burke,  Edmund,  in,  162,  196, 

226,  228,  231,  245,  246. 
Busy  Body,  The,  77,  82. 
Byrne,  Thomas,  5,  34,  187. 

Campbell,  Mr.,  9. 
Canonbury  House,  104,  153. 
"Captivity,    Oratorio  of  the," 

233.  n- 

Chamier,  Mr.,  iii. 

Chatterton,  Thomas,  205. 

''Chinese  Letters,"  90,  93. 

Christian  Magazine,   The,  91. 

Churchill,  Charles,  109,  116. 

"Citizen  of  the  World,  The," 
42,  71,  90,  93 ;  preface 
quoted,  93-84 ;  characteris- 
tics of,  95-96;  the  "  Man 
in  Black "  and  "  Beau 
Tibbs,"  97-98. 

"City    Night    Piece,    A,"   79, 

95- 
"Clandestine    Marriage,  The," 

160. 
Clare,    Lord,      see     "  Nugent, 

Robert." 
"  Clown's  Reply,    The,"  28. 
"  Club,  The,"  no,    111,158. 
Cock   Lane    Ghost,     Pamphlet 

on,  92. 
Collins,    Benjamin,    printer,  of 

Salisbury,  103,  132,  139,  141, 

145, 
Colman,     George,   Manager   of 

Covent       Garden      Theatre, 


264 


Index 


160, 162, 163, 196,  211, 212, 
214, 217. 

Comedy,  ''Genteel,''  or  "Sen- 
timental," 159. 
"  Compendium  of  Biography," 

100. 
Contarine,     Jane,     afterwards 

Mrs.,    Lawder,   22,    23,    57  ; 

letter  to,  59-62. 
Contarine,   Kev.   Mr.,   12,   17, 

21,  23,  26,  30,34,  62  ;  letters 

to,  30-34. 
Cook,      William       (^European 

Magazine),    118,    140,     169, 

175.    176,     177,     185,     239  ; 

quoted,  35,  61,  107,  137,  172, 

173,  186,  214. 
Cradock,  Joseph,  130,  144,  209, 

218,  223;  quoted,  239. 
Critical  Review,  The,(>^, 
Croker,  John   Wilson,  quoted, 

245. 
Crown    Tavern    at     Islington, 

1541  157. 
Cumberland,  Richard,  136,  226, 
227  ;  quoted,  136. 

Davies,  Thomas,  the  book- 
seller, 157,  198,  199,  223,  227, 
243.  244  ;  quoted,  237. 

Delap,  Elizabeth,  5. 

"  Deserted  Village,  The,"  71, 
79,  172  ;  published,  185  ; 
dedicated  to  Reynolds,  185  ; 
depopulation  theorj-,  1S5  ; 
identity  of  Auburn  and  Lis- 
soy,  186-187  ;  qualities  of 
the  poem,  1S8  ;  farewell  to 
poetry,  1S8,  189  ;  sum  paid 
to  author,  189. 

"  Description  of  an  Author's 
Bedchamber,"  69,  70. 

"  Dictionary  of  Arts  and 
Sciences,"  223,  224. 

"  Distresses  of  a  Common 
Soldier,"  95,  125. 


"  Distresses  of  the  Poor,"  82. 
Dodsley,  the  bookseller,  136. 
"  Double  Transformation, 

The,"  126. 
Dyer,  Samuel,  iii. 

"  Edwin  and  Angelina"  (The 
Hermit),  129,  130,  131,  141, 
142,  150,  151-152. 

"  Elegy  on  a  Mad  Dog,"  141. 

"  Elegy  on  Mrs.  Mary  Blaize," 
45,  82,  83. 

Ellis,  Dr.,  Goldsmith's  fellow 
student  at  Leyden,  34. 

"English  Grammar,"  15T. 

"  Enquiry  into  Polite  Learning 
in  Europe,"  42,  57,  59,  73-7S, 
82,  1C9,  116. 

"  Essays,  by  Mr.  Goldsmith," 
98,  124 ;  preface  and  con- 
tents, 124-125 ;  European 
Magazine,  The,  35,  66. 

"False  Delicacy,"  Kelly's, 
163. 

Fielding,  Henry,  80. 

Filby,  William,  Goldsmith's 
Tailor,  182,  183  n.,  240; 
quoted,  241. 

Fleming,  Mrs.,  of  Islington, 
105,  106,  109,  140  ;  her  ac- 
counts, 105-106,  no,  113. 

Foley,  Statue  of  Goldsmith  by, 

233- 
Ford,  Mr.  Edward,  144. 
Forster,  Mr.  John,  157,  204  n., 

219,  235,  240;  his  "Life  of 

Goldsmith  "  quoted,  51,  107, 

109,  III,  162,  201. 
"Friar  of  Orders  Gray,"  152, 

153. 

"  GAME'of  Chess,"  Goldsmith's 
translation  of  Vida's,  204  n. 

Garden  Couit,  Temple,  Gold- 
smith in,  154. 


Index 


265 


Garrick,  David,  160,  161,  162, 
164,  181,  182,  223,  224,  225, 
229  ;  epitaph  on,  226. 

Gaubius,  Professor  of  Chem- 
istry at  Leyden,  33. 

Gibbon,  Edward,  224. 

Gibbs,  Mr.  J.  W.  M.,  39,  54  n. 

Glover,  William,  158,  176; 
quoted,  40,  176. 

Goethe,  quoted,  146-147. 

Golden,  Peggy,  7,  171. 

Goldsmith,  Ann  (Goldsmith's 
mother),  3,  21,  24,  198. 

Goldsmith,  Catherine  (after- 
wards Mrs.  Hodson),  11,  20, 
24. 

Goldsmith,  Rev.  Charles  (Gold- 
smith's father),  3,  4,  12,  17, 

2D. 

Goldsmith,  Charles  (Gold- 
smith's brother),  54. 

Goldsmith,  Dean,  of  Cloyne,  27. 

Goldsmith,  Rev.  Henry  (Gold- 
smith's eldest  brother),  4,  8, 
II,  17,  20,  26,  115,  172,  185; 
letter  to,  19,  64-65,  6S-71. 

Goldsmith,  John,  of  Bally- 
oughter  (Goldsmith's  uncle), 
8. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  his  family,  i ; 
father,  3  ;  birth,  4 ;  removal 
to  Lissoy,  4 ;  first  teachers, 
Elizabeth  Delap  and  Thomas 
Byrne,  5-6;  has  the  small-pox, 
7;  anecdotes  of  childhood, 
7-8  ;  at  school  at  Elphin  and 
Athlone,  8-9 ;  at  Edgeworths- 
town,9 ;  adventures  at  Ardagh, 
10,  II  ;  marriage  of  sister 
Catherine,  11;  sizar  at  Trin- 
ity College,  Dublin,  13;  his 
tutor,  Theaker  Wilder,  13; 
involved  in  a  college  riot,  15, 
16;  gets  a  small  exhibition, 
16  ;  runs  awray  and  returns, 
16,  17  ;  writes  songs  for  bal- 


lad singers,   1 7  ;  anecdote  of 
his   benevolence,    18 ;    takes 
B.  A.  degree,   18  ;    relics  of 
college  life,  18  ;  rejected  for 
holy  orders,  23  ;  tutor  to  Mr. 
Flinn,  23 ;  sets  out  for  Amer- 
ica and  returns,  24-25  ;  letter 
to  his  mother,  25-26;  starts 
(fruitlessly)  to  study  law,  26; 
goes  to  Edinburgh  to  study 
medicine,    27 ;    admitted    a 
medical   student,    27 ;    visits 
the  Highlands,  30  ;  starts  for 
Paris,  30  ;  adventures  by  the 
way,  30-32  ;   leaves  Leyden, 
34  ;  travels  on  the  Continent, 
34-40  ;    lands  at  Dover,  40  ; 
first    struggles     on   reaching 
England,    43-44  ;    physician 
in    Bankside,    44-45  ;    proof 
reader   to     Richardson,    46 ; 
his  tragedy,  47 ;  projects  for 
the   East,     47;    at    Peckam 
Academy,    48-5 1 ;    bound    to 
Griffiths,  the  bookseller,  51 ; 
"  Memoirs  of  a   Protestant," 
55-56 ;  goes  back  to  Peckham, 
56  ;  obtains  and  loses  appoint- 
ment in  East  Indies,  62 ;  fails 
at  Surgeons'  Hall  as  a  hospi- 
tal mate,  63;    No.  12,  Green 
Arbour   Court,    Old    Bailey, 
66;  difficulties  with  Griffiths, 
67,  68;  visit  from  Percy,  71, 
72;  "  Present  State  of  Polite 
Learning,"      73-78 ;     writes 
for  The  Busy  Body  and  The 
Lady^ s  Magazine,   77  ;   The 
Bee,  77-83;  visited  by  New- 
bery  and  Smollett,  86  ;  con- 
tributions    to     The   British 
Magazine  86,  87  ;  "  History 
of    Miss    Stanton,"    87,   88 ; 
contributions  to  7"/^!?  Public 
Ledger,  89;  edits  The  Lady' s 
Afagazine,   90;    moves   into 


266 


Index 


No.  6,  Wine  Office  Court, 
Fleet  Street,  91 ;  visited 
there  by  Johnson,  91;  "Me- 
moirs of  Voltaire,"  92;  "  His- 
tory of  Mecklenburgh,"  92  ; 
"  Mystery  Revealed,"  92 ; 
"Citizen  of  the  World," 
93~99j  "  Compendium  of 
Biography,"  100;  "Life  of 
Nash,"ioi;  sale  of  third  share 
of  "Vicar  of  Wakefield," 
101,  102;  removes  to  Mrs. 
Fleming's  at  Islington,  103- 
104;  Mrs.  Fleming's  ac- 
counts, 105,  106;  hack-work 
for  Newbery,  106, 107 ;  "  Let- 
ters of  a  Nobleman,"  107; 
Hogarth  at  Islington,  109- 
iio;  "The  Club"  formed, 
110,  hi;  working  on  "The 
Traveller,"  113;  publication 
of  that  poem,  115;  described, 
115-123;  "Essays,  by  Mr. 
Goldsmith,"  124-125 ;  friend- 
ship with  Nugent  (Lord 
Clare),  127;  visits  North- 
umberland House,  127-12S; 
"  Edwin  and  Angelina,"  129; 
resumes  medical  practice,  131, 
132;  "Vicar  of  Wakefield," 
132;  story  of  sale,  133-141; 
date  of  production,  141 ;  char- 
acteristics, 142-144;  theories 
of  Mr.  Ford,  144;  bibliogra- 
phy, &c.,  144-147;  Formey's 
"  History  of  Philosophy," 
&c.,  translated,  1:0;  "Poems 
for  Young  Ladies,"  150; 
"English  Grammar,"  151; 
"Beauties  of  English  Poesy," 
151;  letter  to  St.  James'' s 
Chronicle.  151 ;  at  Canonbury 
House,  153;  at  the  Temple, 
154;  visited  by  Parson  Scott, 
155;  "  Roman  History," 
157;  the  "Wednesday  Club," 


158;  "  Good  Natur'd  Man  " 
produced,     163 ;     its   story, 
J  59-167;  at  2,  Brick  Court, 
Middle  Temple,  169;  relaxa- 
tions and  festivities,  169-171 ; 
death   of  Henry   Goldsmith, 
171;  begins   "The  Deserted 
Village,"  172;  "Shoemaker's 
holidays  "  and  "  Shoemaker's 
Paradi.se,"      173-174;     Mr. 
Edmund  Bott,  178-179;  old 
conjpilations  and  new,    179, 
iSo  ;  epilogue  to  Mrs.  Len- 
ox's "Sister,"  iSo;  a  dinner 
at   Boswell's,    181-183;    ap- 
pointed Professor  of  History 
to  the  Royal  Academy,  184  ; 
letter  to  Maurice  Goldsmith, 
184;     portrait    painted    by 
Reynolds,    184;    "The   De- 
serted Village,"  185-190;  the 
Horneck    family,     191-192; 
"  Lifeof  Pamell,"  193  ;  visits 
Paris,  193-197 ; "  Abridgment 
of    Roman    History,"    198; 
"  Life  of  Bolingbroice,"  199  ; 
Lord  Clare  and  "The  Haunch 
of  Venison,"  200-204;  ^^  ^^^ 
Royal  Academy  dinner,  204 ; 
at  Edgeware,  206-207;  "His- 
tory of  England,"  207;  pro- 
logue   to    Cradock's     "  Zo- 
beide,"      209;      "  Threnodia 
Augustalis,"  209;    letter  to 
Mrs.       Bunbury,      209-211; 
"She  Stoops  to    Conquer" 
produced,  213;  its  story,  211- 
216;   WheWtdhy  The  London 
Packet,   217-220;   dining  at 
Oglethorpe's,  221 ;  at  Paoli's, 
221  ;  "  The  Grumbler,"  222; 
"Grecian     History,"      223; 
"  Dictionary     of     Arts    and 
Sciences,"     223;    "Retalia- 
tion," 225-228  ;  illness,  229- 
230;   death  and  burial,    231, 


Index 


267 


232  ;  Johnson's  epitaph,  232 ; 
other  memorials,  233;  por- 
traits, 234-236;  testimonials 
as  to  character,  236,  237; 
money  difficulties,  237-240; 
love  of  play,  239,  240;  of  fine 
clothes,  240-242 ;  generosity 
and  benevolence,  242-243 ; 
alleged  envy  and  malice,  243- 
244 ;  simplicity,  245-246 ; 
position  in  society,  247-248  ; 
conversation,  248-249 ;  rela- 
tions with  Johnson,  251-252; 
conclusion,  254-255;  letters 
to  Daniel  Hodson  and 
Thomas  Bond,  256-262. 

Goldsmith's  hostess,  109. 

Goldsmyth,  John,  i. 

"  Good  Natur'd  Man,  The," 
163  ;  produced,  163  ;  Gold- 
smith on  the  first  night,  164, 
his  gains,  166  ;  Davies  on  the 
play,  166,  168,  183  n.,  212, 
224. 

Gordon,  Mr.,  158. 

Gray's  "  Odes,"  53. 

Grecian  History,  206,  223. 

Green  Arbour  Court,  Old 
Bailey,  66,  71. 

Green,  Rev.  Mr.,  of  Kilkenny 
West,  3. 

Griffiths,  the  bookseller,  51,  52, 
53.  67,  68. 

"Grumbler,  The,"  222. 

Gunning,  Elizabeth,  Duchess 
of  Hamilton,  28. 

Gunns,  Miss,  the  two,  241. 

Gwyn,  Mrs.,  see  "  Horneck, 
Mary." 

"Haunch  of  Venison,  The," 
184,  201 ;  quoted,  201-203, 
233  n.,  235. 

Hawes,  William,  230 ;  his  "  Ac- 
count of  Dr.  Goldsmith's  ill- 
ness," 230  n.;  quoted,  243. 


Hawkins,  Mr.,  afterwards  Sir 

John,    m,    112,    130,    136; 

quoted,    127-12S,   137,  138, 

141. 
"Hermit,  The,"   see   "Edwin 

and  AngeUna." 
Hickey,  Mr.,  196. 
Higgins,  Captain,  219. 
"History    of    England,"  108, 

207. 
"  History  of  Miss  Stanton,"  87, 

88. 
"  History   of    Philosophy  and 

Philosophers,"  150. 
"  History  of  Rome,"  179. 
"  History  of  the   Seven   Years 

War,"  54. 
Hodson,   Daniel,   20,   62,  257, 

258. 
Hodson,  William,  his  son,  242, 

257-260. 
Hogarth,  William,  109. 
Holberg,  Baron  de,  34. 
Hoineck,    Catherine    ("Little 

Comedy  "),  afterwards  Mrs. 

Bunbury,     191,     192,     209; 

letter  to,  in  rhyme,  210. 
Horneck,  Charles  (The  "  Cap)- 

tain  in  Lace  "),  191,  219,  220. 
Horneck,  Mary,  (The  "Jessamy 

Bride"),    afterwards      Mrs. 

Gwyn,    113,    131,    191,    192, 

193.219.  231.  234,235. 
Horneck,  Mrs.    Hannah   (The 

"  Plymouth  Beauty  "  ),   191. 
Hughes,  Rev.  Patrick,  of  Edge- 

worthstown,  9. 

"  Iris,  To,"  82. 

Irving,  Washington,  quoted,  66, 

158. 
Ivy  Lane  Club,  The,  m. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  80,  82,  86, 
109,  1 10,  117,  138,  139,  160, 
161,  164,  170,  180,  184,  i88, 


268 


Index 


205,  214,  226,  231,  232,  242  ; 
quoted,  113,  118,  122,  134, 
135.155.  164,  165,  167,  180, 
182,  212,215,  237,  238,  244, 
249,  251,  252,  253. 
Jones,  Rev.  Oliver  (Gold- 
smith's grandfather),  2. 

Kelly,  Hugh,  158,  163,  217, 
224,231. 

Kenrick,  Dr.,  151,  218,  220. 

King's  Bench  Walks,  Gold- 
smith in,  154. 

Lady's  Magazine,  The,  77,  90. 
Langton,  Bennet,  iii,  207,  211, 
Lawder,  Mrs.,  see  "  Contarine, 

Jane." 
Lenox,  Mrs.,  Charlotte,  180. 
"Letters  from  a  Nobleman  to 

his  Son,'"  107,  157. 
Letters   of   Goldsmith,    58-63, 

64-65,    67-6S,    69-72,     184, 

194,  195,  207,  209-211,  220, 

256-262. 
Literary  Club,  The,  112. 
Literary  Magazine,  The,  54  n. 
Lissoy,  4,  186-187. 
"  Logicians  Refuted,  The,"  82, 

126. 
Lumpkin,  Tony,  22,  215. 

Macaulay  on  "  The  Trav- 
eller," 119-120. 

Macleane,  Mr.  Lauchlan,  31. 

Mangin,  Rev.  Edward,  quoted, 
250. 

"  Man  in  Black,"  The,  4,  97- 
98. 

"Memoirs   of    a    Protestant," 

55-56- 

Mills,  Edward,  17,  18,  57,  58. 

Milner,  Dr.,  of  Peckham  Acad- 
emy, 48,  51,  56. 

Milner,  Miss  Hester,  50,  51. 

Milner,  Mrs.,  49. 


Monro,  Alexander,  Professor  of 
Anatomy  at  Edinburgh,  28. 

Montagu,  Mrs.,  131. 

Monthly  Review,  The,  51,  53, 
67;  Goldsmith's  work  for, 
53  ;  reviews  Gray's  "  Odes  " 

in.  53-54. 
"  Mystery  Revealed,  The,"  92. 

"  Nash,  Life  of  Richard,"  loi. 

Newbery,  Francis  (John  New- 
bery's  nephew),  132,  150. 

Newbery,  Francis  (John  New- 
bery's  son),  104. 

Newbery.  John,  86,  103,  106, 
113,  133,  136,  137,  139,  140, 
148,  150,  151,  154,  156. 

"New  Simile,  A,"  126. 

Northcote,  195,  248. 

Northumberland,  Earl  of,  after- 
wards Duke,  127,  199. 

Nugent,  Dr.,  in,  127. 

Nugent,  Robert,  afterwards 
Lord  Clare,  126,  127  n.,  199, 
200,  201,  203,  248. 

0'CAROLAN,the  blind  harper,  7. 

Paoli,  General,  221. 

Pamell,  Thomas,  3  ;  "  Life  of," 

193- 
Percy,  Dr.  Thomas,  afterwards 

Bishop  of  Dromore,  35,  72, 

129,  152,  205. 
"Percy  Memoir"   quoted,  31, 

49,  5°.  65,  71,  72,  91,  127, 

129,  141. 
"  Piety   in    Pattens,"    Foote's, 

212. 
Pilkington,  Matthew,  99. 
Piozzi,     Mrs.,    see     "  Thrale, 

Mrs." 
"Poems   for   Young    Ladies," 

150. 
Portraits    of    Goldsmith,     184, 

235-236. 


Index 


269 


Primrose,  George,  35,  36,  39, 
43i  48.  85. 

"  Prince  Bonbennin  and  the 
White  Mouse,"  99. 

Prior,  Mr.,  afterwards  Sir 
James,  59  n.,  105,  117,  19^, 
223,  240  ;  his  "  Life  of  Gold- 
smith "  quoted,  51,  63,  113, 
131-132,  194-196,  206,  228. 

Prior,  Matthew,  151. 

Public  Ledger,  The,  59,  89,  104. 

"  Rasselas,"  Johnson's,  82. 

"  Reliques,  of  Ancient  Poetry," 
Percy's,  73,  130,  153. 

"  Resverie,  A,"  80. 

"  Reverie  at  the  Boar's  Head," 
87,  88. 

"  Retahation,"  its  origin,  225  ; 
epitaph  on  Garrick,  226  ;  on 
Reynolds,  228;  on  Caleb 
Whitefoord,  228 ;  published, 

233  n- 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  no,  113, 
131,  161,  162,  181,  184,  192, 
193,  195,  197,  207,  223,  225, 
226;  epitaph  on,  228,  231, 
235.  241.  242,  245,  248. 

Richardson,  Samuel,  46. 

"  Roman  History,"  157,  180. 

"  Roman  History,  Abridgment 
of,  "  198. 

Romeiro,  Juan,  2. 

Saloop,  see  "sassafras." 

Sassafras,  105. 

Scott,  Parson,  155,  204. 

Seguin,  Mr.,  170. 

Seguin,  Mrs.,  171. 

Sheridan,  Thomas,   3. 

Sheridan,  Thomas,  the  Actor, 
61  n. 

Sidebotham,  Mrs.,  131. 

"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  11, 
21  ;  produced  at  Covent  Gar- 
den, 213  ;  dedicated  to  John- 


son, 213 ;  the  first  night, 
214  ;  characteristics  and  suc- 
cess, 215,  217,  222. 

"  Slioemaker's  holidays,"  173. 

"  Shoemaker's  Paradise "  at 
Edge  ware,  177. 

Sleigh,  Dr.,  31. 

Smollett,  Dr.  Tobias,  77,  86. 

Steele's  comedies,  159. 

Strahan,  133,  139. 

Strean,  Annesley,  9,  23,  262. 

Taylor,  Isaac,  124, 

Taylor's      "  Records     of     my 

Life"  quoted,   176. 
Thrale,   Mrs.,  afterwards  Mrs. 

Piozzi,  137,  164, 166  ;  quoted, 

i35>  138; 
"  Threnodia   Augustalis,"  209. 
"Traveller,     The,"     33,    113, 
1 14-123  ;  dedication  to  Henry 
Goldsmith,    115-117;  unique 
copy,     114     n.  ;     Johnson's 
part     in,     1 1 7-1 18;     charac- 
teristics of,  1 19-122  ;  bibliog- 
raphy,      122 ;      sum       paid 
to    author,    123,     128,     135, 
139,   149- 
"Twitcher's    Advocate"   (Par- 
son Scott),    155. 
"Vicar    of      Wakefield,    The," 
quoted,   35,  37,   48,  86  ;  pub- 
lished, 132  ;  sale  of,  102,  133; 
Boswell's      "authentic      ac- 
count,"    134;     variants     of 
Mrs.  Piozzi,  Hawkins,  Cum- 
berland,     135-136;     Cook's 
version,    137-138 ;    attempts 
to   harmonise    discrepancies, 
138-140;    date   of   composi- 
tion, 140-141  ;  characteristics, 
142-143 ;      theories    of    Mr. 
Ford,  144;  bibliography,  145, 
148,  149. 
"Voltaire,    Memoirs   of,"   69, 
92;  quoted,  3S-39. 


270 


Index 


Waller,  Dr.  J.  F.,  13. 
Walpole,  Horace,  quoted,  204, 

214. 
Welsh,  Mr.  Charles,  102,  103, 

133- 
Whitehead,  William,  162. 
Wilder,  Rev.  Theaker,  13,  14, 

16,  17. 
Willington,  James,  55. 


Wine  Office  Court  (No.  6),  91 ; 

Johnson's  visit  to,  91. 
Wolfe,  James,  kinsman  of  the 

Goldsmiths,  2, 
"  Written    Mountains,"    The, 

47,  48. 

"  ZoBEiDE,"  Prologue  to  Cra- 
dock's,  209. 


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